Strike Force
by BlueKnight101
Summary: Sequel to 'Rising' and 'Fight back' Quinn has joined the Task Force 141, will her presence change the course of World War 3
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

Quinn shivered, hugging herself tightly. Even with her heavily insulated winter gear, she was chilled to the bone. Next to her was Soap, crouched on the icy ledge on the side of the mountain. Snow flurries blew around them, freezing them; even Soap's beard was beginning to freeze over. He was smoking a cigar, blowing smoke into the air. Soap wasn't the kind of person who smokes, but at that moment, she wished she had one as well if only to keep herself warm. Soap didn't seem to be cold at all, but that was probably due to his iron will and strength. Quinn was ashamed of the people in America and England who said they all had iron will, but people like her and Nick still couldn't match Soap's strength.

Quinn told herself not to look down over and over again, but the more she told herself not to, the more she wanted to. Eventually, she did and peered carefully over the edge of the icy ledge. They were about thirty thousand feet above sea level, and the cliff face was extremely steep. The jagged ice and rock below looked forbidding to Quinn, and she quickly snatched her ice picks to steady herself on the ledge, digging them into the wall of ice behind her. A few minutes later, they heard the roaring of a jet engine and they looked up from their ledge. An F-22 fighter jet flew over them and deeper into the mountains. Soap flicked the cigar over the edge and looked at Quinn.

"Break's over, Quinn," he said, standing up. "Let's go." Quinn nodded and slowly stood up. The ledge was barely ten inches in length, her toes hanging over the edge. They slowly slid along the side of the mountain, being as careful as they possibly could so as to not fall over the edge. One misstep would send them to an icy grave, instantly killing them before they could be saved. As the ledge began to thin, Soap held up a hand for Quinn to stop. She unhooked the ice picks and ordered Quinn to stay there until he said it was okay to follow.

He dug the ice picks into the mountainside, slowly working his way upward. The spikes on the bottom of his boots allowed him to have better stability and balance while scaling the mountain. Quinn looked up at him the entire way up, but a few meters ahead, Soap stopped to look back at her.

"The ice is good, follow me," he said. "Watch out for this patch to the left-it doesn't look completely stable." Quinn nodded and dug the ice picks into the mountain, following Soap upward. The mountain was extremely large and they spent the better part of the hour trying to scale it. At the top was an area where several mountains came together and formed a natural section of flat land that the base was stationed on. Inside of that base was an American ACS module that has malfunctioned and landed in the mountains. The module contained literally everything that was useful to the Americans but could be dangerous in the hands of the enemy. Hostilities between the Middle East and America had risen extensively over the past five years, particularly the relations between the United States and the Russian Republic. They couldn't allow that ACS module to remain there or else they would know all of the secrets of the American military, and with Russia proving to be hostile towards Americans, that information could prove to be fatal in their hands. It was definitely the kind of job for the 141.

After much climbing, they finally reached another outcrop near the top of the mountain. They collapsed on top of it for a few minutes before standing back up and looking around for a place to climb from. Soap-having the best sight of the two-spotted another ledge a few meters away from their outcrop. Soap studied the ice of the ledge and looked back at Quinn, who was trying to find another way to climb up the mountain.

"Quinn, there's a place right here," he said, beckoning him to come over. He squatted next to him, looking at the ledge. "That ledge leads right into the mountains, so we won't have any more trouble with climbing after we scale it." He stood up and rolled his shoulders, walking back and looking out over at the ledge. "Good luck, mate. I'll see you on the far side." With that, he sprinted across the outcrop and jumped to the ledge, digging the ice picks inside of the ice. Quinn looked over the edge and saw Soap was still there, the ice sturdy and holding him up. He looked at Quinn and beckoned to her to make the jump.

Quinn stood at the back of the outcrop, ran, and jumped to the ledge. She dug her ice picks into the ledge, but began to slide down. She panicked and tried to dig the ice into another part of the ledge, but the ice wasn't holding and she was sliding farther and farther down. Soap yelled to Quinn, telling her to hold on. As if I was thinking of letting go! Quinn thought. Suddenly, the ice under her right ice pick falling away to the bottom of the mountain, leaving her hanging dangerously on the ledge by one arm. She threw her right hand up to hold onto her ice pick with both hands. She would have dug the other ice pick into the ice, but she couldn't reach a place for her to dig it in to.

Suddenly, the ice gave and she was falling down the mountain. Images of Beth and Jemma's smiling faces filled her mind. At least if she was going to die, she would die happy. A strong hand grabbed her wrist and Quinn looked up to see Soap holding on to her, his other hand holding the ice pick that was still dug inside of ice ledge. He swung Quinn over to the ledge and onto some good ice. This time, her ice picks had stayed firm inside of the ice, allowing him to continue the climb. After another half our, they finally scaled the mountain and reached a part of the mountain where they could walk on their own two feet. They looked around and couldn't see any other high mountains, so they hooked their ice picks to their sides and took out their ACR Assault Rifles. They were suppressed and had red dot sights for accuracy and stealth, but there was a third experimental object on its side. The object was called a heartbeat sensor, a small blue monitor that located the heartbeats of nearby life forms. Soap had set the sensors to tag the two of them as dark blue dots so they didn't accidentally shoot each other. All other dots-being white in color-were dubbed as either animal life or another contact.

Soap slung the ACR to his back, however, and instead took out an M21 EBR Sniper Rifle with an attached variable zoom scope and heartbeat sensor. It too, was suppressed. They stalked along the mountain ridge and deeper into the range, eliminating any contacts they saw. The first two were standing outside of the runway. As an F-22 fighter came in landing, they knew that they couldn't shoot them until it passed lest it see them and notify the rest of the base. They fired and eliminated the two Russian contacts and continued further into the base. The snow picked up and then became a full force blizzard, the storm blocking all visibility save for a few meters in front of them.

Soap climbed up the mountain a bit more and told Quinn to continue on into the base. The plan was that Soap would provide over-watch with a thermal scope and take out the outer defences while Quinn made her way to the main runway and plant C4 at the fuelling station. That way, the base would be effectively destroyed when an avalanche came through triggered by the explosion. Quinn was like a ghost in the blizzard, so unless she was very close to the guards, they would never see her.

As she continued further into the base, the amount of enemies became more abundant to the point where 'going in silent' wasn't a complete option. She was only equipped with four magazines for her ACR as well as one for her suppressed USP .45 pistol, so when she picked up an enemies' three-round-burst FAMAS, with three extra magazines from a dead contact, she wasn't at all fazed. Soap, on the other hand, wasn't too happy about it.

"You've got to be careful about picking up an enemy's weapon, Quinn," he advised on their short-range radio link. "Any unsuppressed firearms are sure to attract a lot of attention." Quinn rolled her eyes, but Soap wouldn't see her do it, nor could he know. As she hid behind a building across from the runway, a car carrying six Russians inside drove past her. She aimed her ACR at the vehicle, but it didn't notice her through the snow of the blizzard. When she made it to the fuel station, she took a pack of C4 from her utility belt and strapped it around one of the fuselages.

"Hold up, Quinn," Soap warned. "You've got about twenty plus foot mobiles heading your way, and there's a lot of activity around the tower. I can't be sure but I think they may have BMPs, so I'd avoid that area. I'm Oscar Mike to the hangar, out." He complied and continued on to the main hangar. The term Soap used 'Oscar Mike' was another way of saying 'On the Move'. They used many code words so that if anyone who could speak English was listening in on their coms, they wouldn't know what they're saying. If they didn't get that ACS module, however, that wouldn't matter-the enemy would literally know everything, even their code words.

As she worked her way back across the runway, she felt a rumbling and quickly ran behind an F-18 bomber, hiding behind its landing gears and looking out on the runway. A BTR Brone Transporter tank rumbled down the runway. Its massive machine gun surveyed the area, a light passing over her area. Luckily, the Russian manning the machine gun didn't see her, and she was able to sprint away and to the back door of the hangar. A shape moved in front of her and she aimed her ACR into the face of Soap, who was aiming her M21 EBR at her.

They lowered their weapons when they realized who they were and Soap broke the uncomfortable silence by asking, "Took a scenic route, eh?" Quinn nodded with smile. "Well then, let's go." He lead the way through the back door of the hangar but told her to hold up when he saw a soldier walk in the hall in front of him. He strapped his M21 to his back alongside his ACR and drew his knife from its sheathe. He sprinted forward, slammed the man into the lockers next to him, shoved him to the ground, and sank the knife into his neck, killing him instantly. Blood began to ooze out onto the ground, forcing Quinn to pick her way over it. In the centre of the hangar was a large, battered piece of machinery. The two walked up to it examining the massive thing.

"What is this?" Quinn asked in wonder, having never seen anything like it before.

"One of the satellites from low orbit," Soap replied. "Its engines malfunctioned and it crashed nearby. Unfortunately, this compartment is empty which means that they've already located the module." He looked around the shelves in worry but found nothing save for a blow torch. He took that and set to work tearing into the satellite. "Go upstairs and look for the module; I'm going to see if the yanks hid it deeper in the infrastructure of this satellite instead of the compartment."

Quinn nodded and raced up the stairs into the main control room. At the end, connected to a computer's hard drive, was a small box about the size of the compartment in the satellite. She picked up the ACS module and unplugged it. She took her USP .45 out and shot the hard drive and the monitor several times to make certain that there was no way that they could recover the data stored on the ACS. That was when she heard a loud clang from the central hangar. She looked at her heartbeat sensor and saw the blue dot that represented Soap, but now there were twenty whit dots right in front of it.

"Quinn, I've been compromised," Soap whispered into the radio. "Keep a low profile and hold your fire." Quinn complied and, crouched over, walked to the doorway to the control room.

"This is Major Petrov!" A voice yelled from the bottom of the hangar. "Enemy infiltrators, we have captured one of your comrades! We know you are up there, come out now or we will kill your comrade!" Every fibre of Quinn's being wanted to open fire on them and save Soap, but she knew that was a death sentence for the both of them, especially if the BTR was outside of the hangar, its machine gun aimed at them both. Instead, she stayed hidden. "Very well; I will give you five seconds to come out before I execute your comrade! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO!" Quinn whipped out from behind the door, a detonator in her hand.

"ONE!" She yelled, and then pulled the trigger. Behind the men, the runway erupted into flame, causing them to turn around and see what happened. Soap and Quinn raised their ACRs and shot at the men in the hangar.

"Quinn, stay close and hug the walls!" Soap ordered. "We'll use their MIGs as cover until we reach the tarmac to the southeast!"

"Roger that!" Quinn yelled, firing more shots at the men below. She hopped over the railing and followed Soap as he sprinted out of the hangar and towards the runway. One of the Russian MIGs was burning from the explosion at the fuselage. Quinn threw a frag grenade at the MIG, causing it to explode in a massive ball of flame. They ran outside of their cover and past the destroyed MIG, taking AK47 fire from a building to their right. They shot back, suppressing their attempts at hitting them. Finally, Quinn ran out of ammunition and took out the FAMAS she picked up, firing the short controlled bursts at the men firing at them.

Two snowmobiles flew into the area, forcing Quinn and Soap to switch their fire to the drivers and the passengers carrying assault rifles. Once they were out of the way, they sprinted to the tarmac and slid down the snowy hill down to the shed at the bottom. Six more troops came over the edge, firing down at them as they tried to escape down the mountain. It was many miles, though, and it was hardly likely that they could sprint the entire way to the rendezvous point at the other side of the mountain.

Two more snowmobiles came down, and raced behind the shed. Soap unhooked his ice picks and waited. As soon as they came near, he shoved the picks into the driver's chest and the other one into the passenger. The second snowmobile flew past, but Quinn quickly cut them down as they came to a halt. Suddenly, Quinn had an idea. She hopped on the driver's seat of the snowmobile the men Soap had killed had been on and revved up the engines.

"Soap!" Quinn called. "Come on, we can use this to escape!" He nodded and climbed on behind him, loading another clip into his own ACR-his M21 had run out of ammunition. Quinn pulled back on the throttle and raced down the mountain. A Russian Hind flew overhead, firing its machine guns at them. The snowmobile was far faster and maneuverable than the pilot had anticipated, though, and they were able to move out of the way and get past them. As they drove across a lake, the Hind fired the rockets at the ice, shattering it. Quinn pinned the throttle, just staying ahead of the rapidly cracking ice.

Soap turned around, aimed, and fired at the cockpit of the Hind. The bullets flew into the cockpit window and killed the pilot and copilot. The Hind spun out of control as the corpses slumped against the controls, and it crashed into the mountain, the rotating propellers smashing into the rock and ice and turning the Hind into a burning ball of flame. The blackened, smoking wreckage crashed into the ice and sank into the lake.

The snowmobile flew over the hill and then traveled down the mountain. That was when Soap noticed that there was a large gorge separating the two mountains. The mountain they had to rendezvous at with the rest of the 141 was across the gorge, nearly two hundred feet across.

"We're not going to make it!" Quinn yelled.

"Just keep that throttle pinned at let me worry about the details!" Soap yelled. "Kilo 6-1, we're taking a lot of incoming fire but we're almost to the LZ, standby!"

"Roger that, Bravo 6," the helicopter pilot replied. "We're getting close to bingo fuel, so make it fast!" The gorge got closer and closer, but Quinn pinned the throttle as Soap had ordered. Then, the snowmobile flew over the gorge, riding the empty air below them. Quinn couldn't see the bottom, making her heart flip over. The snowmobile touched the ground and they were speeding up the hill again. As they made their way to the top, a Chinook landed and Quinn pulled over. She was breathing heavily from the massive jump and the entire rest of the mission, but Soap looked proud of her. He brought his fist to his chest and nodded to her. Quinn returned the gesture and climbed on board.

"Alright, they have the ACS!" The pilot yelled as they and the rest of the 141 climbed aboard the Chinook. "Let's get out of here!"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"_Sir, I've got a weird message from someone named 'Nikolai'," Quinn said over her shoulder. She was staring at his computer monitor, looking at the messages on it. One of the contacts sending her a message read NIKOLAI. "This is what the message says: I can't find a secure channel so get Soap to call." Soap walked over to her and read the email from the computer. He nodded and got a mobile out. At the bottom of the message was an encrypted code with the numbers to Nikolai's secure link embedded inside. Soap had seen enough of Nikolai's messages to know how to decrypt them and understand what they said._

_"Hello?" A Russian man answered on the other end of the line._

_"Nikolai, it's Soap," he replied. "Sergeant Fabray got your email; what do you need?"_

_"Soap, it is good to hear from you my friend!" Nikolai said. Soap smiled._

_"Likewise, mate," he told Nikolai. "Now, what do you need?" Nikolai was one of Soap's good friends he'd met from the war five years ago. Before Captain Price had died, Nikolai was under cover in the Ultranationalist camp in Russia, feeding him classified information on their whereabouts. He'd helped them throughout the war until they finished it; Soap hadn't heard from Nikolai for over five years now, and it was great to hear from his old friend again._

_Unfortunately, his old friend's voice began to sober up as he told Soap about a mass tragedy that had occurred only an hour and a half ago in Moscow, Russia. At first, Soap couldn't believe what he said. Five years ago, there was another mass tragedy when thirty thousand marines were killed when a nuclear warhead was detonated in Saudi Arabia, killing them all. This, however, was nothing like killing soldiers. This was madness; it was insanity! Soap told Nikolai he had to be mistaken, but he only replied that he wished that he was. Quinn stared at Soap, perplexed. What was so terrible that he would be reacting like this? To preoccupy herself, he stared at the code at the bottom of Nikolai's email and tried to figure out how Soap deciphered it. Even though Quinn was incredibly good with numbers, and had received top marks at McKinley for it, Quinn got nowhere near figuring out the code._

_"Are you sure?" Soap asked, his voice a barely__ audible whisper._

_"Da, I am," Nikolai replied grimly. "I didn't want to have to show you this; look at the Sergeant's email." As if on cue, Quinn noticed a new email on her monitor. Soap nodded and she opened it. There was an embedded link inside of it. Quinn clicked it and it came up with black and white video footage. It showed about one hundred civilians standing in an airport, talking, laughing, __parents scolding children. Quinn and Soap didn't know what to make of it, and then five figures stepped out of an elevator. They carried light machine guns in their hands. They had assault rifles and shotguns strapped to their backs for secondary weapons. They wore bulletproof vests on top of tuxedoes and other suits._

_The one in the middle, a man with pale skin and unkempt black hair raised his fist and they lifted their guns. Immediately, they opened fire, bullets tearing into the crowd. The screaming of terrified civilians-men, women, even children, were murdered from the gunfire. There were several more video clips following it, the screams of terror echoing in Quinn's mind as she watched the horrible video. At the end where several photos of dead civilians and the faces of the people who'd so ruthlessly killed them as well as a photo of a vaguely familiar face appeared._

_The man had short, dyed hair, a mustache, and tattoos that stretched halfway up his neck. He wore a dark Tuxedo that was stained with blood. A bullet hole lay in the centre of his forehead, leaking blood onto the ground. Despite the mutilation done to the man, Quinn could recognize him. She'd seen him the very day that General Shepherd had come to introduce them at orientation._

_"Allen," Soap whispered. "They killed Allen." That was when Quinn noticed something that Soap didn't. He pointed out a small flag under the insignia of a deformed Spetsnaz sign. It was the American flag. Soap's eyes widened in horror as he saw the flag. "Quinn, get me a line to Shepherd." Quinn nodded and typed madly into the keyboard._

_ "The Russians aren't going to let this massacre go unanswered," Nick said as he examined the videos and photos. He, Soap, Quinn, General Shepherd, and several other members of Task Force 141 stood in the room. "This is going to get bloody."_

_"Too late, mate," Soap said. "Now in the eyes of the world, they're the victims. No one is going to say a word when the Russians club every American they reach."_

_"Makarov was one move ahead," Shepherd said. "He knew Allen was an American from the start and has left thousands of corpses at his feet."_

_"Well that's just great because no one else but us know that it was Makarov's op, not ours," Nick said, crossing his arms. "That means our credibility died with Allen, and I don't think any of us know how we can give the world the proof that America needs."_

_"I think I've got an idea," Shepherd said, then typed in a few keys on the computer. He scanned one of the pictures and singled in on a single bullet shell. He compared it on a shell tracker and they waited impatiently as it scanned __other similar bullets. Finally, it came up with a perfect match. Shepherd tracked the shell to its point of origin: a place in Rio De Janeiro in Brazil. A black and white picture of a young man in his early twenties came up. He wore a baseball cap in the picture. Another came up of an African man around the same age, possibly younger, who wore a baseball cap backwards. Shepherd pointed to the first man. "We just follow the shell to its origin. This is Alejandro Rojas."_

_"I've never heard of him, sir," Soap said._

_"You know him as Alex the Red-he supplied Makarov with the weapons for his attack," Shepherd replied. He pointed to the African man. "He's his assistant, so if you can find him, he'll lead you right to Rojas."_

_"To think that one bullet can unleash the fury of an entire nation," Soap said. His eyes widened as he realized what Shepherd wanted them to do. "Which means-"_

_"That if you find Rojas, he'll lead us right to Makarov," Shepherd finished._

"Soap, do you have a fix on Rojas' right hand man?" Nick asked on the radio. Quinn stared out the window of the car. They had been driving for nearly three hours and he was beginning to fall asleep from the sheer boredom. The driver of their car, an African man native to Brazil, followed a truck in front of them carrying militia inside of it. He owned a bobble-head doll of a Hawaiian girl that was placed on the dashboard. He, too, looked bored simply following them.

"Negative, they've stopped twice already but there's been no sign of him," Soap replied from the back of the car. The car turned down another street, so they followed down. The buildings in Rio were cramped together, most of them disorganized. The part of the city they were at was far nicer, but the favela beyond it was full of shack-like buildings. One could literally travel between houses just by jumping from roof to roof. The car stopped in front of a building and three militants stepped out of the car. Two came out from the front and one came out from the back, all of them aiming guns at a young African man who stepped out of a hotel. "Wait, I think we see him. Whoever these guys are, they definitely aren't happy with this guy." Suddenly, the African man-confirmed as Rojas' right hand man-pulled out a Desert Eagle, firing two bullets into the stomach areas of the two men in front of him. One of them tried to shoot him in his final moments, but he fired a bullet into his head. The man in the back fired but missed, so Rojas' assistant shot two bullets into him.

Soap yelled at them to get down, but the driver wasn't fast enough. The bullet flew into the windshield and into the chest of the driver. Blood flew from him and covered the dashboard. Quinn watched as the driver died, slumping over onto the steering wheel. Soap yelled at Quinn to get out of the car as he did just that. Quinn grabbed her ACR with a long to medium range ACOG sight attached to it. She kicked open the door and ran outside behind Soap. Nick radioed in to tell them that he was flanking around the Hotel Rio to try to cut him off, but Rojas' assistant was far quicker than they were. He wore only shorts and a t-shirt, probably only carrying one extra magazine for his Desert Eagle, while the three of them and the four other TF 141 troops with them carried backpacks, automatic weapons, and armour on their bodies, making them far slower than he was.

There were more gunshots and an explosion as they raced downtown after the man. At a four way intersection, three cars were crashed into each other. They were burning away at each other as civilians ran away in terror. _Hand grenades, too,_ Quinn thought. _Rojas must be very well equipped if he can give his men hand grenades and fully automatic weapons! _Five more men ran from down the street holding Assault Rifles and SMGs. The one in front was Nick, his balaclava soaked with sweat. Soap and Quinn joined them in their chase to capture Rojas' assistant before he got the chance to escape. If he made it into the favela, there was no telling how long it would take them to find him!

They chased him into an alley leading to the back of the city and to the entrance of the favela. Quinn sprinted ahead-as she had done lots of running for the Cheerios-and aimed with her ACR. She fired a single bullet from her gun at his legs. The bullet flew straight into his ankle, downing him. He fell to the stone ground with a cry of pain. Quinn ran up to him as he reached for his Desert Eagle. She kicked it out of the way and pointed her ACR at his face. The rest of the team caught up to them, breathing heavily. Soap nodded to Quinn and grabbed Rojas' assistant by his shoulders. Nick opened up the back of a nearby truck. There wasn't much inside save for a chair and a few wires and extension cables. Nick shrugged and helped Soap haul him into the truck. Nick took wires from his backpack and bound his wrists with it, tying him into the chair. Next, he took the wires and cut them so that the interior of the wires could be exposed. He tapped them together until they sparked. Rojas' right hand man stared at the wires in horror and struggled in his chair. Soap turned away from Nick-who at the moment was playfully threatening the man with the cables-and looked at Quinn and everyone else.

"This is going to take some time," he said, then nodded to two of the soldiers. "Rocket, Chemo, I want you two to stay here and guard the truck while we get some information out of this guy. Quinn, Meat, Royce, I want you three to go into the favela and see if you can track down Rojas. That's where this guy is heading. Good luck." With that, he slammed the door of the truck shut. Quinn, Meat, and Royce ran up the stairs and to the gate that led into the favela.

"Remember, guys," Royce said. "There are civilians in the favela, so watch your fire out there." Quinn and Meat complied as they ran up to the gate. The entrance was already opened, allowing them access to the favela below. They jumped down one meter to the surface below. There were twenty civilians below playing a game of basketball while a few others stood by and spectated the game. "Meat, do you know how to get these civvies out of here?"

"Watch and learn, boys," Meat said with a smile. He walked a few meters towards them, raised his ACR, and fired several shots into the air, shouting something in Spanish. They looked around until they found Meat, telling them something that neither Quinn nor Royce could understand. Their eyes widened in terror and they began to run away. "Well, that was easy."

"What did you tell them?" Quinn asked.

"That you yanks were going to nuke them," he replied with a malicious grin. Quinn and Royce laughed, but it was short-lived. They heard afar off gunshot from an AK47, a bullet flying into the car next to them. They looked up to see thirty-possibly forty!-militants enter the area on top of the rooftops, carrying a large assortment of weapons. They yelled in unison for their battle cry, firing shots into the air. Then, they turned their weapons on the three and opened fire, the bullets tearing into the ground and objects around them.

They took cover behind cars, trucks, and scattered crates and boxes around the area. Quinn aimed with her ACR and brought down three militants who were preoccupied with firing at Meat, who was hiding behind a small green car. Royce took out a frag grenade and tossed it up at the shack-like homes. It exploded inside, bringing the hole building down. As soon as it crashed, Meat fired a grenade launcher round directly into it, killing the militants that were on top. Meat stood up to take a shot at another militant, and as soon as it began, it was over. The gunfire had ceased-at least for the moment.

Royce looked around the area and then reached into his backpack, taking out a map. He lied it on the ground, and pointed at the far back of the map. Roach recognized it as the favela. There were three main areas: at the far right was a small cluster of homes assorted in a kind of trail to the rear of the favela. At the far left-which was directly in front of them-was another path that led to the back of the favela. From there, there was another trail that led right until it intersected with the first path. In the middle of the favela was another path that intersected with the other three, all leading into the back of the main favela that they were at and lead deeper into the marketplace section of the favela.

Royce announced that he would take the right side and flank around. Meat decided to take the middle and cut through, which left Quinn with the task of going on the left and breaking through what she suspected were iron defenses that lead deeper inside. _Leave it to a couple of Tommies to give me the hardest __mission,_ Quinn thought. 'Tommies' were the nickname that the Americans had given the British a long time ago. It was now up to her to take on the left side of the favela.

As Quinn suspected, she was met with a considerably large resistance. Fortunately, though, the militants had no proper training with their weapons save for how to use them, giving her the advantage needed to punch through their defences. Near the end of her journey through the favela, he saw a man holding a Dragunov Sniper Rifle. He wasn't quick enough to shoot the man before the bullet fired. Suddenly, he heard something that he dreaded: "Meat is down! I repeat Meat is down!" Quinn swore under her breath but continued on. Her anger from Meat's death transformed her into a walking tank of a Woman, killing anyone that stood in her way.

At the far end of the favela, a man ran into a shack at the end. She shot the hinges and kicked the door in to see a man being held hostage by the militant, a gun pointed at his temple. Quinn had never been trained in a situation like this, and therefore didn't know what to do. She slowly set her gun on the table and raised her hands in the air, hoping to buy time for the civilian to run off. The militant fired the gun and killed the civilian instead, then turned it on Quinn. She flung herself towards the man and pulled out a pistol, shooting the militant in the wrist and making him drop his gun, howling in pain. Quinn silenced him and gave a quick salute to the poor civilian who'd been murdered even when Quinn tried to save him. She picked up her ACR and continued on.

As she neared the end of the favela, she saw a horrifying sight: Royce was hanging two meters above the ground, his head lying back in the noose of a rope. Quinn's anger flared at what she'd seen. First, a militant sniped Meat. Then, another murdered a man who more than likely had a family he would never see again. Now, Royce had been killed, hung from the roof of a building. Quinn vowed to avenge their deaths after they weeded the information from Rojas.

"Soap, this is Quinn. Come in, over?" Quinn called into the radio, pacing around the bottom of the favela.

"Quinn, we got the info on Rojas!" Soap replied, gunfire sounding on his radio link. "We're on foot near the top of the favela! What's your status, over?"

"Meat and Royce are dead," Quinn said bitterly. She heard Soap swear on the other end of the radio.

"There's no time for backup, Quinn, so you're on your own. Try to cut of Rojas if you can, we're on his tail right now!" With that, Soap cut the radio link as Quinn continued further into the favela. As she rounded a corner, she heard vicious growling and then barking. She looked around but didn't see anything. Then, a man opened up his window and pointed down an alley, screaming something frantically at Quinn but she couldn't understand the Spanish. Then, a German Shepherd came flying at him. It growled and snapped its jaws at Quinn. She couldn't do anything but try to keep those jaws from closing around his neck, so she let go of her ACR, put both hands on the dog's head, and then quickly turned it sideways. She heard an audible crack as its neck snapped, and its eyes rolled to the back of its head as she pushed the dog off of Her. Quinn couldn't believe her eyes. Now they were training dogs to kill, only to be killed as soon as they made the attempt? What kind of a hell hole had they stepped in to? She had no time to contemplate that now, however, and instead made her way through the favela once more.

It was long, tedious work to get through it. Several times, Quinn saw what she suspected to be Rojas climbing the buildings but Soap had reprimanded Nick for trying to put a shot in his leg.

"What are you waiting for?" Nick had said. "I can end it here!"

"We can't risk it!" Soap protested. "Do you want to have to deal with the militia if we end up killing their leader?"

"Bullocks!" Nick swore. "Fine!" Quinn was now climbing up to the top of the favela and nearing the marketplace. If Rojas got in there, he probably wouldn't be found. It was so vast and complicated that not only would there be thousands of places he could hide, but there would be even more militants inside, making their job harder. And where there were more militants, there was an even greater chance of one of them getting killed. Quinn doubted she could take another man dying before her eyes, so catching Rojas was a top priority for him.

A militant popped his head out of a window and fired at Quinn, forcing her to take cover behind a large block of stone. The gunfire hadn't ceased, so she suspected that he had acquired a heavy machine gun. In its worst case scenario, a Vulcan Minigun. If he had that, it would tear the block to pieces and kill Quinn within milliseconds. He noticed that the building the gunfire was coming from was lined up with another, but the second one was a bit further back. If he could throw a grenade-no, a Flashbang; she had run clear out of grenades-and hit the corner of the building, it could fly directly inside of the window and stun the militant long enough for Quinn to take the shot and finish him off.

I only have one shot at this, She thought. She estimated the height at which she would have to throw it, then clicked the pin of the Flashbang, threw it at the building, and waited for the gunfire to cease. It did, as well as hear a groan from the militant inside. She stood up and shot her with her ACR until he went down, collapsing inside of the building. Quinn examined the gun he was using and confirmed her fears: it was indeed a Vulcan Minigun. If she'd waited only a few more seconds, that turret would have torn him to pieces.

She began to walk away and make the jump to the next rooftop when she heard gunshots from above. Twenty more militants were above him, carrying AK47s and RPGs.

"Oh, bloody hell," Quinn groaned. Then she was on the run, dodging rockets and bullets throughout the favela. Her harried escape brought her further into the favela where she saw all of the men from the rooftops. Luckily, she had an experimental GP25 under slung grenade launcher at the bottom of her ACR. She fired the arced projectile and killed several of the militants at once, but there were still several more standing up and firing right at her. Quinn was down to her last magazine, so she had to choose her shots wisely until she was down to her M1014 close-quarters shotgun and her M9 pistol, two of which were not suitable weapons in a constantly varied city such as the favela. She continued to fire at the militants, but just before she was about to kill the last two, she heard a loud click as she pulled the trigger. "Shit," Quinn muttered. She still had one more of her GP25s, so she loaded it and fired. Their bodies flew from the rooftop and down hundreds of meters to the bottom of the favela. Roach, not having the heart-or the stomach-to watch, continued on.

She dropped her ACR and took out her M1014 and raced through the favela. She heard frantic footsteps above her, and she knew instantly that it had to be Rojas. She quickened his pace but lost her in a building. Nick must have been nearby because Quinn heard in both her radio and in the air, "He's going to get away!"

"No he's not!" Soap replied. Suddenly, Quinn saw Soap fly out of the window of the house and crash into a red car at the bottom. Rojas was underneath him, struggling to escape. Soap pulled out a pistol and held it to Rojas' head, making him stop and stare into the muzzle in fear. What he didn't realize, however, was that there wasn't even a magazine cartridge loaded into the pistol, meaning that Soap was running low on his ammunition just as much as Quinn was. Nick came running from behind the building. He looked at the shattered glass around, then up at the window at the second floor and nodded his head in realization that Soap had tackled Rojas through it. "Baseplate, this is Bravo 6. We have the package, I repeat, we have the package!" Quinn glared at Rojas, twirling her M9 in her hand and deliberately making a show of it in front of Rojas. She wanted to show Rojas what revenge was like when one messed with the men and women of the Task Force 141 and innocent civilians. Nick was currently having an angry discussion on his radio.

"Bullocks, the skies are clear!" Nick yelled into the radio. "Just send the bloody chopper already!" There was more angry shouting and swearing, then Nick cut the link on his radio.

"What's going on?" Soap asked.

"Command's got a head up their arse," Nick replied with a growl. "We're on our own, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER3**

"___Well that's just bloody great," Nick said as they watched the video footage from the computer screen. The screen showed several videos of Russian troops invading America. The Russian fleet was stationed on all sides of the country, helicopters, bombers, fighters, and transports blanketing the airlines of the country. Any civilian planes were shot down from the sky and crashed into the houses with even more people living in them below. "America's just become a complete shit-storm."_

___"I can't even raise anyone on the horn," Quinn reported, slamming the radio down angrily. "They must be jamming all coms in or out of the States." Quinn couldn't help but think about her family back in Lima. According to reports, the Russians had yet to reach Lima. Colonel Sylvester's men were holding them back._

___"They must have got through the ACS module before we recovered it," Soap said, referring to their mission in the mountains. "The Russians have a key to every lock in America."_

___"Which means that this mission was all for nothing, doesn't it?" Nick asked, folding his arms over his chest in frustration. Soap shook his head and clicked on the computer screen, bringing up a picture of a Russian man in his late twenties. He had buzz cut hair and wore a t-shirt and jeans._

___"Not yet," Soap said, showing them the picture. "I know a guy who can get us back in the fight. Let's go____ find a pay phone."_

___"Those things still exist?" Nick asked incredulously._

"Sir, we've got militia closing in from the front and back!" Nick reported as they sprinted through the back of the favela and towards the marketplace. They were all equipped with new weapons, Quinn carrying a UMP .45 submachine gun with a grip and ACOG sight, compensating for her ammo-less ACR with ACOG and grenade launcher. She still carried her M1014 shotgun, but it only had two clips remaining, so she carried a Desert Eagle when that ran out of ammunition. Because of the fact that SMG ammunition was very lightweight, Quinn was able to carry seven separate magazines on her belt as well as two fragmentation (frag) grenades and three Flashbangs.

Rojas wasn't with them; Soap left him back in the favela tied to a pole for the militia to take care of when they found him. A man like him couldn't be allowed to supply weapons to Makarov anymore, especially if he was going on more genocide massacres like the one in Moscow. Soap-obviously knowing a thing or two about being 'persuasive'-was able to get a treasure trove of information from the man. One thing that they all found particularly interesting was the fact that there was one man that Makarov hated more than anyone else on the planet-including Americans. The man was currently a prisoner in a Russian Gulag so there was no hope of him escaping and causing 'harm' again. They couldn't figure out who the prisoner was, where he was from, or even if 'he' was even a 'he' to begin with. There was no information on him other that the fact that he was locked up and has been for a very long time. Once again, they couldn't figure out how long he'd been locked up for. Soap knew immediately that whoever it was, they had to spring him out for two reasons: the first was that if Makarov hated the prisoner so much, there must be a good reason why he had to lock him up. The second was to use him as bait to lure Makarov out of hiding.

They learned other things as well like where the weapons were being transported to and where they came from. Rojas wouldn't say where exactly, but he hinted an estate Safe House in southwestern Russia that Makarov had been known to use in the past. There was another place in Afghanistan nicknamed 'The Boneyard' where destroyed and discarded planes were lying in various states of disarray and disrepair. Makarov used that place just as much as he used the estate, so there was no telling which one he would be at and at what time. They were, however, able to gain a wealth of information from Rojas that would undoubtedly assist them in their mission to find Makarov, so anything and everything that Rojas told them was invaluable to them and to the Americans. He even told them what Makarov's grand scheme was, and it was horrifying to even think about it. Makarov wanted to create a third World War. Makarov was completely and utterly insane! The previous World War nearly tore the planet to pieces, but if he was allowed to create a third, not just humanity, but all life on Earth would be in jeopardy. The war between America and Russia was only the beginning: Makarov planned on forcing Russia to invade Europe and bring them into the conflict.

Imran Zakhaev had kept Makarov in check up until this point. He was at least sane enough to know that a global conflict was going too far even for someone who hated Americans and their government. Now with Russia's new government, Zakhaev got what he always wanted with his death, but if Makarov was allowed to do what he wanted, he would tear the world apart. The nuclear warheads that the countries and nations owned would be unleashed on the planet, and therefore turn the planet into a worldwide ghost town. Soap, Quinn, Nick, Rocket, and Chemo had all been to Pripyat, a city near Chernobyl in Ukraine. The place was abandoned now when fifty thousand people were evacuated after a nuclear meltdown. The city would be uninhabitable for another thousand years, perhaps even ten thousand before the radiation left the area. Soap swore that there would not be another Pripyat, and he would not allow so many people to die. They had to end the war before it was too late.

"Let's get going, Nikolai will meet as at the primary LZ in the centre of town," Soap told them.

"Let's do this!" Soap yelled and they repeated the battle cry as they rushed into the parking lot ahead. An RPG flew directly above them and into a car. It exploded and flew high in the air before crashing into the ground in a smoking heap of scrap metal. Militants jumped down from the roof carrying AK47s, TAR-21s, and a variety of SMGs and shotguns. Bullets flew around the area and at Task Force. They dove behind cover and traded fire with the militants on the ground and on the rooftops. There were several gunshots from a Dragunov Sniper Rifle up above. Quinn used her ACOG sight to look high and found a small outpost on the roof of a building where a militant was sniping at Nick, Chemo, and Rocket at the other side of the lot. Keeping in mind the amount of recoil on the UMP .45, she fired three short bursts at the man. The bullets slammed into him, killing him instantly.

They continued to fire into the ranks of the militia as they attempted to flank around them on the roofs and rush them on the ground. RPG fire and bullets flew around the lot, destroying cars and blowing the concrete of the lot to rubble. There were three militants standing on the roof of a shack, so Quinn took out a frag grenade, pulled the pin, and through it into the shack. It detonated, bringing down the support beams of the shack and collapsing it underneath them. Suddenly, the gate at the end of the lot burst open and two white pickup trucks with machine guns flew into the area, firing at them with their heavy weapons. Soap loaded a grenade into his launcher, fired it at the first pickup, and destroyed it. If flew into the wall of buildings behind it. Quinn shot the man driving the second technical and then turned to the man firing the machine gun.

"Let's go!" Soap yelled. They ran through the gate and down the street ahead. More militants ran in front of them, but the Task Force was prepared and killed them before they could fire any shots. As they ran into the main courtyard, three more militants ran onto the roof and shot at them with AK47s. Quinn knew the weapons just by the sound of the gunshots. He slid behind an old oven and fired at them with his UMP .45. As they fell, Soap ordered Nick, Chemo, and Rocket to take the main road while he and Quinn flanked the militants from the left side.

The militants fought them every step of the way as they made their way to the LZ. When they made their way to the marketplace, they found it to be crawling with militants and even their vicious German Shepherds. Bullets flew around them as they dove for cover.

"Why don't they just give up?" Quinn cried.

"I guess that was something that Rojas didn't teach them," Nick replied over the gunfire, then turned to fire at the militants with his ACR. "That or they're not smart enough."

"What do you think?" Quinn asked as she shot at a militant and his dog rushing for them. Nick shrugged.

"I'm guessing it's a bit of both," Nick said. Quinn smiled and continued to shoot at the militants as they fired at them from the shacks and stores in the marketplace. Food blew to pieces as they were hit by flying bullets. Quinn thought at one point that Soap had been hit when he saw red liquid on his face with a few chunks in it, but it was really just the interior of a watermelon that exploded in front of him. When they finally cleared out the marketplace, they began to run at full speed to the back. They cut through the buildings and ran into a large courtyard and public playground. A large helicopter flew over the courtyard.

"There's Nikolai's Pavelow!" Soap yelled above the sound of the rotating blades. The Pavelow was an extremely large helicopter capable of carrying many people at once as well as being very maneuverable and battle hardened and ready for action. "Nikolai, we're here! Can you lower the ramp for us?"

"Da, Captain MacTavish!" Nikolai called into the radio. He lowered the ramp and slowly began to lower down. Then, there was a large crack and an RPG rocket flew into the side of the Pavelow. The helicopter flew out of control, flying just over the heads of Task Force 141. They ducked down as Nikolai fought to regain control of the Pavelow.

"It's too hot!" Nikolai screamed as he rose above the courtyard. "We will not survive this landing!"

"Nikolai just wave off!" Soap cried. "We'll meet you at the secondary LZ at the back of the village!"

"Roger that!" Nikolai replied, rising above the buildings. "Good luck!" More militants rushed into the area, firing at their small group. As soon as the fight began, though, it was done, and they climbed the rooftops of the village. Most of the shacks and houses were made of wood and metal, the ceilings simply made of old metal plating on the tops. More bullets flew after them, but they continued to run away from them.

"My friend, from up here it looks as though the entire village is trying to kill you!" Nikolai informed them. Soap grunted an affirmative.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," He growled as he leaped over a gap between the buildings. "Just be ready to pick us up!" The Pavelow flew ahead of them and to the end of buildings at the other side of the street. "Jump for it!" Soap yelled. They jumped to the lower rooftop below. Quinn, however, misjudged her leap and she fell down, grabbing the edge of the building by her fingertips. She began to slip, but Soap jumped to her. Quinn made a grab for his outstretched hand, but missed it by mere millimetres. She couldn't hold on and fell to the ground and into blackness.

"Quinn, wake up!" Soap screamed into the radio. "Wake up, you've got to move!"

"Quinn, we can see them from the chopper and there's dozens of them!" Nick yelled frantically. "You have to meet us at the back of the buildings and meet us on the rooftops near the edge of the favela!" Quinn could see the shadows-and even the militants who owned them-walk towards them, twirling their guns and looking for her. She pushed herself to her feet and forced herself to run as they opened fire on her. The bullets flew through the walls as she sprinted through the favela.

Soap couldn't see her, so it was essential that she get to the rooftops as quickly as possible so she could provide the cover that Quinn needed. She ran through the buildings, stone, metal, wood, and many other materials making up the houses and shacks. She found a staircase and sprinted up the house and onto the metal rooftops. Nikolai yelled that the gas was low in his Pavelow, and that she only had thirty seconds to make it to the Pavelow. She sprinted faster and faster to get to the LZ at the back favela.

She slid down the metal rooftops and she smashed through a thin layer of glass allowing her access into a small stone building in front of her. She sprinted onto the balcony and Nikolai's Pavelow appeared in front of her. A rope ladder was hanging from the Pavelow. She sprinted ahead and made a mighty jump for the rope. She flailed her arms to catch it. Her fingers met the rope rungs and she clutched onto it.

"We've got her!" Soap yelled, poking his head out of the latch.

"Where to now, my friend?" Nikolai asked as Quinn looked out over the horizon of Rio De Janeiro.

"Just get us to the sub." Soap replied.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

_"____It's your turn, Tommie," Quinn said, looking at the American soldier in front of her. She looked down at the black and white chequerboard. They had been in Nikolai's massive Pave Low for several hours now, so they began playing a game of chess to pass the time. Unfortunately for everyone else, Quinn was even better at chess than she was at fighting, and even then she exceeded all of them save for Nick and Soap._

___He looked down and noticed that Quinn had moved his Queen up in what was a particularly vulnerable position for his own Queen to attack from the side. He moved his Queen closer to hers, but her King of which he had not noticed at the time, moved onto the place of his Queen and killed her. He scowled and slammed his fists on the____ table top. Three times in a row now he'd lost to Quinn, and it was getting more and more annoying. Quinn leaned back with a satisfied grin and rested her head in her hands behind her head._

___"Well, I guess we know where this is going from here," Quinn said with her eyes closed. "You only have your King left while I have half of my army still perfectly intact."_

___"I know you're cheating somehow," he snarled. "And I'm keen to figure out how!"_

___"You Tommies always think that someone's cheating whenever you don't have your way," Nick said from his cot on the side of the Pave Low. They sat in an uneasy silence that prolonged until they heard the voice of Soap near the cockpit of the Pave Low._

___"I just don't understand, sir," Soap said into the radio. "Shouldn't we be coming back to the fight?"_

___"Don't worry about it," an____ older man replied. "There's enough fight to go around that I'd be surprised if a few more countries got involved."_

___"Let us hope it doesn't get to that," Soap said as he beckoned everyone over to a small table. He clicked a button and the 'table' lit up showing a holographic display in front of them. A large black and white image appeared as it rose up and out of the machine as a three dimensional holographic transmission._

___"Men, this is General Shepherd if you haven't already noticed," the man said, his voice projected from the machine. "I've been discussing the issue of the war with Captain MacTavish. I'm sending coordinates to your pilot for the location of the Sixth Fleet. You're going to be helping in leading the counterstrike against Russia. The intel that you've acquired from Rojas has confirmed that the guy Makarov's got the mad-on for is Prisoner 627, but we can't get to him." A new image appeared on the hologram. It projected a view of the Bering Strait ____near Russia. It zoomed in to a 3D image of an Oil Rig._

___"Oil rigs, sir?" Nick asked._

___"The Russians are using them as SAM sites to take out the air force and our UAV surveillance," Shepherd replied. "The engineers and workers are being held hostage by the Russians as human shields which is why we didn't just blow up the rigs wholesale. Now boys, I know that I'm sending you into the meat-grinder on this one, but-"_

___"They have it which means that we want it," Soap cut in. "Especially if it gets us closer to 627."_

"This is USS Chicago Actual to Dry-Dock Shelter, we have a go." The Captain of the submarine reported to all of the other subs in the currently-submerged Sixth Fleet. They and all of the Task Force 141 had joined forces for the counter attack on Eastern Russia. Most of the men in the men in the fleet were American, so having so many different people from the 141 was to say the least, a trying experience. Some had trouble understanding the accents of some of the soldiers, whilst the 141 had had years of experience with them.

Quinn was clinging onto a miniature launcher that they had nicknamed 'The Shooter'. She, Nick, Soap, and Chemo were riding the same Shooter. They were inside of a large compartment on the top of the sub that was filled with the water of the Pacific Ocean, so they sat there in their seats built into the Shooter, floating in ice-cold water. The insulated gear they wore did nothing to help them at all save for keep their bodies dry. The only thing that really worked was their breathing apparatuses that allowed them to stay in the water for one standard hour before the oxygen tanks gave up.

Quinn shivered in her seat, making sure that the straps that held her M4A1 SOPMOD (an M4A1 Assault Rifle with the Red Dot Sight, under slung Grenade Launcher, and muzzle flash suppressor) and her SCAR-H with a brand new version of the Thermal Sight were secure on her body. The Shooter moved at incredible speeds through water, and she didn't want to risk losing any of his equipment in the ocean. Her frags and Flashbangs were secure in the satchel that she tied to her left leg.

After a few minutes of waiting, they heard a creaking sound and the latch in front of them moved outward, showing them a view of the ocean. Soap stood up and nodded to them to make sure that they were secure in their seats. Quinn readjusted her grip on the metal bar in front of her and sat straight in her seat. The Shooter launched forward, cutting through the water ahead. As they shot out and away from the USS Chicago, they noticed an enormous iceberg to their immediate left. It was a blue-green hue as algae grew on the bottom of it, large patches of ice showing underneath. Small fish that looked like they might be cod or krill were feeding off of the algae growing on its sides, darting away as the Shooter flew past them.

Quinn was in awe of the underwater world around her. Below, she saw a Humpbacked whale, heard its resounding voice echoing through the eddies and underwater currents of the ocean, calling for food or mates. Quinn was not sure which of the two it was calling for, but didn't so much care as to what it was meant for, but rather what the beautiful sound it produced.

"This is the USS Dallas," the captain of the second submarine reported in the radio. "We're launching Team Two now." Their shooter flew past the second sub, meeting up with the second shooter that held Rocket, a new member of their, an African American man who requested his nickname to be 'Worm' as well as two more men that Quinn had not met yet.

As their shooter flew up behind them, Rocket looked back and made a hand gesture to see if everyone on their shooter was alright. Soap gave him a thumbs-up to signal that they were all secure and they turned back to look ahead. Through the dark blue water they could see dark metal beams that were already infested with underwater crustaceans and strange growths growing on its sides. There were long beams that stretched far down to the ocean floor to siphon oil from the bottom of the ocean floor. They had reached the oil rig.

The shooters powered down and Soap turned to motion that they were swim upward to the bottom of the rig. Quinn pulled herself from her seat and pushed upward, swimming to the lower platform at the top. When she surfaced, she saw two Russians talking to each other. She drew her knife and silently swam toward one. Soap was on the other side behind the other. Soap nodded to Quinn and she grabbed the Russian on her side, dragging her into the water. The other one looked shocked and gave Soap the chance to do the same. He struggled, trying to break free of Quinn's grip but she slit her throat with her knife before she could get the chance to resurface and call the alarm.

She pushed the lifeless corpse to the bottom of the ocean and swam upward again, sheathing her knife. Two of the Task Force 141 were waiting and helped her upward. She tugged off her gear and laid it on the platform. She followed Soap and Nick up the metal stairs to the first deck of the ship. One of the Russians was leaning on railing, smoking a cigarette. Quinn dropped him, his body falling over the edge and into the water below. To their left was an old storage room. They could see the shadows of people inside. Quinn took out a frame charge from her satchel and she stuck it to the wooden door.

Soap formed up next to him and nodded to Quinn. She pulled the detonator and the frame charge exploded, the door disintegrating to nothing more than ash and splintered parts. They whipped inside and shot down the Russians before they could kill the hostages inside. The men were strapped to chairs, their feet, hands, mouths, and eyes were all bound by leather and wire. The Task Force rushed in, Rocket, and the two other Americans stayed behind to search the complex lower deck and secure the hostages, leaving the next three decks to Soap, Quinn, Nick, and Worm.

"Control, this is Team One," Soap reported. "We've secured the hostages on deck one and are moving up to deck two."

"Roger that, Hotel Six," The commander replied. "Team Two will secure and evac the hostages while you clear it topside, over."

"Keep your eyes open and watch your sectors," Soap told them as they continued up the stairs to the second deck.

"Hotel Six, I recommend you keep a low profile," Control warned. "There's an enemy helo patrolling the area, over." As if on cue, a Little Bird helicopter flew around the oil rig, shining a large spotlight on their position. They hid behind crates and fuel canisters, and luckily, they helo didn't catch sight of them. They continued on and breached another storage room. When they were all inside, a Russian's voice came over the intercom.

"Enemy radio," Nick said. "Something tells me we're going to have company, sir."

"Roger that, let's get C4 on those bodies," Soap said, cutting loose one of the hostages. "But make sure that the hostages are out of the line of fire. Team Two will follow up and secure these hostages." They nodded and grabbed the hostages one by one, dragging them to a part of the deck that was secured by railings so that they wouldn't try to escape and accidentally roll off the platform and into the Pacific Ocean.

Quinn placed a pack of C4 on the body of one of the Russian Spetsnaz and ran from the room, taking cover on top of a small lookout. They waited impatiently for the patrol to arrive. The frigid air was beginning to freeze Quinn's skin and she began to shiver uncontrollably, forcing her to make an effort to keep herself still. Suddenly, she caught movement as the gate at the end of the storage room opened. Ten Russians walked through it and unlocked the door to the storage room.

Soap held up his hand to make sure that Quinn didn't do anything stupid that would get them killed. Quinn pulled out the detonator all the same, apprehensive for the inevitable fight that was about to be unleashed. As soon as they were all in, Soap closed his fingers into a fist and pulled it down, signalling that she was to push the pin. The storage room erupted into a ball of flame, the wooden walls blown to pieces, glass and metal shards skittering across the edge of the deck.

Immediately, the alarm sounded and their cover was blown. Soap ran ahead with Quinn, Nick, and Worm following close behind him. AK47 fire stopped them in their tracks as Russians rushed down from the upper decks to make sure that they didn't make it to the top. Quinn reported that their cover was blown and returned fire with the Russians. Control reported that there were still hostages being held on the top deck, which meant that they absolutely needed to get there. Unfortunately for them, the Russians were dug in deeper than a snake residing in its underground realm. Quinn tried to think as the Russians fired at them. It was an oil rig which meant that half of the things on it were extremely flammable and could explode easily. It was risky, but she switched her M4A1 SOPMOD settings to her M203 Grenade Launcher. She arced the trajectory of the launcher and fired the grenade at them. It hit a fuel pipe with exploded and annihilated the entire section of the deck, killing the Russians instantaneously.

They ran up to the walkway only to be met with the Little Bird. Quinn instinctively raised her M4A1 and fired the grenade at the bird. It hit right between the propellers and destroyed it. It imploded from within and detonated the Little Bird. The blackened, smoking wreckage of the helicopter crashed onto the deck of the rig and they advanced further to the third deck of the ship. Once again, the enemies were dug. Fortunately, nick carried a SOPMOD as well and made short work of the men firing on them. On the fourth deck, however, they didn't see anyone.

"Think that was all of them, sir?" Nick asked. An RPG flew over them, missing their heads by inches.

"I'm guessing not!" Quinn replied. They dove to cover behind crates, boxes, and metal beams littered across the deck. Small canisters flew from the windows of the upper rig and detonated, smoke flying from them in all directions.

"They're a step up!" Soap yelled. "They're probably using thermal optics to see through the smoke! If you have anything thermal, now's the time!" Quinn-whom had been running dangerously low on ammunition in her M4A1 anyway-pulled out her SCAR-H Assault Rifle. The attached thermal scope could see perfectly through the smoke. The difference between the new version she had equipped and the old version was the fact that with the new version she could see objects painted through it as well in black and white whereas the old models were only able to see people or animals that gave off heat signatures.

It didn't take long for them to clear the top deck-most of the Russians had engaged them on the lower decks and they were able to make it through the smoke screen.

"Hotel Six, there are confirmed hostages as well as explosive materials confirmed inside the control room. Watch your fire!" Control called over the radio.

"Roger that, we're not in a hurry to blow ourselves up either," Soap said. He and Quinn placed another frame charge on the door and detonated it. With the few bullets Quinn had left in her M4A1, she whipped inside. A man with a knife rushed towards her. She fired a shot to her head and turned to the other Russians. She took each of them out with two shots to the upper chest and the room was cleared.

"Control, this is Hotel Six," Soap breathed. "The rig is secure and the hostages are ready for evac."

"Copy that, Hotel Six," Control replied. "Get to our transports, we're the other teams are ready as well." They walked to the back of the rig and to the landing pad where a Little Bird was waiting for them. Quinn, Nick, and Soap sat on the lower rail, each placing a hand on the supports behind them. There were no railings in front of them, so a single lurch of the Little Bird would send them all hundreds of meters down to the ocean below. Worm sat inside and took their weapons, loading them with new magazines and handing them back. He had no ammunition for Quinn's SCAR-H, so he handed her an M21 EBR Sniper Rifle with a variable zoom scope and suppressor attached to it.

The Little Bird flew from the pad as more of the SEAL teams rappelled down to the deck to secure the hostages and disable the SAM sites. As the Little Bird flew on, it formed up with thirty more helicopters, each carrying about ten Task Force 141 specialists, Marines, and NAVY SEALs to attack the Russian Gulag. Icebergs and glaciers shown brilliantly on the darkened waters of the ocean, and Quinn looked forward to the Russian landmass. They would be there by noon, and it was going to be a very busy day.

"This is Control," the commander said on the radio. "All teams, Operation Blue Sky is now in effect. I repeat, Blue Sky is in effect. The Air Force will be there to assist in the assault on the Gulag. It's time for some payback!"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

"___The Sixth Fleet is mopping up," Soap announced. "It's time for us to move in." The Task Force 141, Marines, NAVY SEALs, and the RAF, were all seated in the briefing room in the lower deck of the Aircraft Carrier, _Victorious___. In front of them was Soap, giving them the briefing with General Shepherd. The screen on the wall zoomed in on a small peninsula of land jutting out from Russia, a large structure built on the top of its massive, rocky ledges that led down nearly four hundred standard meters to the ocean below, as well as hundreds of jagged rocks at the bottom._

___The holographic display zoomed in on the building itself, which was revealed to be a massive castle. The hologram was moved into a smaller box next to an old painting of the same building many centuries prior the present condition it was in._

___"This building has a long history," General Shepherd said._

___"Aye and not much of it is pretty," Soap added. "It started out as a castle with an actual dungeon. The walls were built to withstand any siege and even to this day are still reinforced enough to take multiple volleys of missiles. The building survived every brutal winter; the occupants, though, they weren't so lucky."_

___The holographic image of the castle-The Gulag-began to take on several new features as it portrayed modernized emission towers built around the top of the castle, SAM turrets placed on the rooftops of the stone towers near the five emission towers. A large landing platform in the central courtyard was fenced in while streets inside of it allowed armoured vehicles, mobile SAMs, and tanks to roll down them and keep the interior of the Gulag secure. The interior of the Gulag was more and more complex, including a new shower room built for the Russians occupying the castle, electric cell____ doors in the dungeon, and several full armouries. The place was a gigantic fortress, no less of a military base._

___"The monastery didn't survive the purges," Soap continued. "Over the last century it's played host to anyone the Russian government didn't want but couldn't kill. The whole damn place is filled with living casualties of the last war which I swear I thought we'd won," he said the last part with a short laugh. "But I suppose it's all just a day at the races; you back the losing horse and this is where you end up. Well, if Prisoner 627 is the piece of meat that Makarov wants, then we're going to cut him loose!"_

"Thirty seconds!" Soap yelled over the rotating propellers of the Little Bird that he, Quinn, Nick, Worm, Chemo, and Rocket were riding. They were looking out over the Pacific Ocean and the snow-covered ground of Russia. Ice flows drifted in the ocean below, the dark water and bright flows of solid ice reflected against the sun making everything look like an exotic silver hue. Three more Little Birds flew alongside them as the rest of the fleet refuelled with the NAVY. The RAF, however, were already flying alongside them.

Quinn pulled out her M21 EBR and made sure that the magazine was inserted correctly and the safety was switched off. She hefted her EBR and looked down to see an F22 Fighter Jet flying directly below them. Another flew right next to it, both flying forward. The jet engines on the back glowed bright blue and purple as they fired ahead. Then in perfect unison, they each fired two missiles at the SAM location on a small island directly in front of the Gulag.

The missiles smashed into the post and obliterated the small island. They flew off as the Little Birds carrying the Task Force 141 flew through the smoke and towards the massive castle of the Gulag. They flew upward and the Little Birds began to open fire with their machine guns on the sides and at the control towers built on the perimeter of the Gulag. The Little Bird stopped in mid-flight and stabilized, allowing Quinn, Nick, and Soap to fire down at one of the stone towers and take out the Russians on the stone towers.

They quickly and efficiently cut down the Russians manning the SAM turret on the top of the tower. The Little Bird moved on around the large command center that took over what was left of the monastery. They were about to fire on the next tower when two missiles flew past them and smashed into the tower and destroyed it. Chunks of stone flew everywhere and smashed into the Little Bird. The helicopter flew sideways and began to bank off course as the F22 flew past them.

"Shepherd, you've got to get those fighters to cease fire!" Soap yelled into the radio communication link. "That explosion was far too close to our position!"

"I'll try to buy you men some time," he replied. "One man in the Gulag doesn't mean much to the NAVY at this point."

"Oh those bloody Tommies!" Nick snarled. "To think that they're the good guys!"

"Nick cut the chatter and stay frosty!" Soap ordered. Nick complied as they regained stability and flew with the other Little Birds into the courtyard and landing on the pad. They exited the helicopter and ran outside as F22s bombarded the area around them, destroying armoured vehicles and tanks in the process. Quinn slung her EBR to her back and took out her M4A1 SOPMOD as she ran forward behind Soap, Nick, and the rest of the 141.

They ran outside of the main gates and into the perimeter of the Gulag. Russians entrenched on the rooftops fired down on them with AK47s and TAR-21s. They took cover behind a stationary mobile SAM tank. A Little Bird flew into the area, firing at the rooftop with its machine-guns. The sandbags and stones that they were using for cover shattered and crumbled from the might of the heavy machine guns, barely providing so much as a sheet of paper to take cover behind. Quinn peered over the side of the mobile SAM and took potshots at the Russians on the other side of the fence. They took cover in foxholes and small bunkers built into the recesses of the castle, making them both formidable and difficult to dig out. Quinn, however, still retained two of her M303 Grenades. She loaded one in the cylinder barrel, cocked the pin, and fired the grenade. Its arc propelled it up and over the heads of the Russians-and into a fuel canister behind them.

The entire side of the courtyard erupted into flame, annihilating the Russians and everything they were using for cover. Soap signalled for everyone to follow him as he led the way deeper into the Gulag. Despite the chaos of the battle and the means of use for the ancient structure, Quinn admired the design and durability of the castle save for what the Russians added to it. She couldn't begin to fathom what it was like centuries ago when it was first built and used. Soap led the way around a bend of homes that the Russians were using as outposts and makeshift barracks and towards a tunnel.

"Alright, these tunnels should lead to the dungeon," Soap said, looking at the schematics sheet in his hands. "We go in, grab Prisoner 627, and we bang out. Is everyone clear?" They all nodded and then continued on their way. Four Spetsnaz ran up the stairs, only to be met with M4A1 fire from the six Task Force soldiers. They continued onto a large walkway that hung precariously over the dungeon. Quinn stole a glance downward and saw what she suspected was a two hundred meter drop to the bottom. It greatly unnerved her to be on a walkway literally supported by chains hung from the ceiling.

They entered the control room at the end which was-thankfully-better supported than the walkway. Inside were several computers and ten monitors showing surveillance camera footage of all the other areas of the Gulag.

"Alright, does anyone know how to hack into any of this stuff?" Soap asked.

"Ah, Bullocks," Nick muttered, disappointed.

"Don't worry, Nick," Quinn said good-naturedly. "We'll make sure to leave a few kills for you."

"Right," Nick growled under his breath. "You all just go ahead, I'll monitor the security cameras for you." Soap nodded, thankful for his assistance while they searched the dungeons for 627. They ran down the metal walkway to the first floor of the dungeon areas. A spotlight flickered and turned on from the control room, lighting up the area ahead. In the light were several Russians, shielding their eyes from the rays. The five of them raised their weapons and fired on them.

The metal door in front of them was lit by a red light, but with Nick's assistance, it turned blue and allowed them to continue on. They fought the Russians and all the while searched the entire floor but found no sign of 627, nor of any prisoner in the entire floor for that matter. They ran down to the second floor, but once again found no sign of a single prisoner.

"Nick, all these cells are deserted," Soap reported. "What do you got, over?"

"Ah, I see," Nick replied. "They moved 627 to the detention wing beyond the shower rooms on the fourth floor." Soap complied and they headed downward to the armoury in the middle of the third floor.

"See anything you like?" He asked, a grin on his face. Quinn looked around and decided to take an AK47 with a GP25 under slung grenade launcher and slung it to his back. Soap himself preferred the three-round-burst assault rifle known as the FAMAS with an attached Red Dot Sight on the top. When they had collected weapons and ammunition to their liking, they circled around to the back where the next door was. They needed to hurry, though, as Nick had recently reported that about twenty-plus foot mobiles were heading for their location.

"Nick, mind opening the door?" Soap asked. A moment later, the door began to creak open when suddenly, it stopped, the mechanical hinges sparking.

"Bloody hell," Nick said, panicked. "They must have locked it from the hard-line. I'll have to run a bypass-"

"IT'S TOO LATE!" Soap yelled just as twenty-possibly more-Russians entered the third floor. They dove behind the cover of the metal sides and took shots at the Russians surrounding the armoury. The bullets began to puncture the metal and fly inside, one hitting the floor near Chemo. Quinn spotted a Riot Shield and grabbed it, putting the protective bulletproof plating in front of her. The others did the same as well and they held out in the center of the armoury for a few minutes, crouched in the cover of the shields.

An RPG fired from the control room and obliterated the right section of the dungeon, causing the Russians to fall fifty meters to their deaths. The door opened after a minute that felt like an hour, allowing them to walk out on the walkway and draw the incoming fire from the Russians to their Riot Shields. Quinn took point, leading the way and bashing the Russian guards with her shield while the others fired at them from behind.

Chemo, however, was too sure of himself, which led to his own demise. A bullet flew through the armory and smashed into his cranium, killing him instantly. Quinn swore and stood up with her second shot from her M203, she fired and destroyed the section of the dungeon the Russians were on, taking vengeance for the death of their comrade. In a moment, it was all over and they were left with no way to get to the fourth floor. They didn't, however, come unprepared. They grabbed their rappel lines and fell down from the third floor and dropped down to the bottom of the fourth floor.

"The security monitors in the hallway of the next section are blank," Nick reported. "The power must be down in that section."

"Roger that, switch to night vision." Soap ordered. They pulled down their night vision goggles and stalked into the hallway. The M4A1s laser sights fired forward as they walked ahead. The Russians were everywhere in the hallway, causing them to search every room. Rocket went inside one but flew outside, bullets smashing into him. He collapsed on the ground, dead before he hit the floor. Quinn sprinted inside and smashed the Russian's face with the butt of her gun, then fired at him with her M4A1. She, Soap, and Worm were equally shocked that Rocket and Chemo were dead. They continued on, however, not letting their deaths get in the way of their mission. Suddenly, there was a crack and a large explosion as something impacted on the Gulag next to them. Fire and rock fell from the ceiling and the wall of the next hallway. They fell to the ground, covering their heads from the rubble and debris falling from the ceiling.

An F22 flew in front of the opening, firing more missiles into the side of the Gulag. A Black Hawk flew outside and fired into the windows of the hall with high heat sabre rounds, causing them to take cover in the other side hallway. Quinn, Worm, and Soap's faces were freckled with dust and soot from the explosions. They coughed viciously as the dust settled.

"Bloody hell!" Soap snarled between coughs. "Shepherd get those bloody fighters to cease fire!" Quinn's night vision goggles were destroyed by a falling rock, causing her to search for her AK47 and M4A1 SOPMOD through the thick darkness.

"MacTavish, the Air Force has agreed to stop firing for now," Shepherd replied. "You'll have twenty minutes to find 627 before they begin their primary bombardment. Find the prisoner and bang out as fast as you can, ___out_." Soap complied, though Quinn could tell he was angry with Shepherd for not calling off the Air Force indefinitely. They continued through the halls and into a storage room, but the door ahead was locked.

Soap took out a frame charge and stuck it to the wall. They formed up on the wall near the charge. Soap detonated the charge, blowing in the wall. They whipped in and fired at the Russians next to the wall. They were now in the old shower rooms. The showers seemed to have taken fire from the Air Force as well; the showers were cracked, water leaked all over and they splashed through it as they worked their way forward. Unfortunately, the bombs didn't dispose of the Russians inside. They were everywhere-there were Russians taking shots at them from the ceiling and others from behind the stone showers.

They fired at the Russians from the showers and up at the top floor where they could keep over watch on the prisoners below, though there was only one prisoner in the entire castle. If the Russians were taking this many precautions to keep 627 from being captured by anyone, then that meant that he was definitely a massive threat to them and Makarov. Who it was, though, Quinn couldn't even begin to image. Perhaps he was a war veteran from Afghanistan? Korea? Vietnam? Who knows?

Well, they certainly wouldn't if they couldn't get out of the shower rooms in time. Quinn had set the watch on his arm to twenty minutes. They had already wasted six, meaning they only had fourteen minutes left to get 627 and get back out before the bombardment started. They steadily moved forward through the shower rooms, the water now nearly an inch high. Quinn's feet were already sodden from the water that was soaking inside of his boots.

Six Russians appeared at the end of the shower rooms, all of them holding Riot Shields. Quinn wasn't in the mood for getting bombed, so she fired a shot from her GP25 on the AK47. They flew backward, killed instantly. They sprinted forward to a hole in the floor caused by the bombing. They jumped through and fell into the sewers. Worm scrunched his face in disgust.

"Man, this place smells terrible." He commented. Soap and Quinn agreed but continued on through the sewers. They ran through the sewers until they reached a dead end.

"Nick, talk to me!" Soap said. "I don't want to be hear when this bombs drop!"

"Roger that," Nick replied. "I'm detecting two heat signatures on the other side of this wall. One of them should be 627!"

"Alright, now get to the evac chopper," Soap ordered. "We'll get this finished." He complied then cut the link. Soap stuck a frame charge to the wall and detonated it and Quinn whipped inside. There were two people, one a Russian Spetsnaz, and another one who was hidden from view behind the Spetsnaz. The man she couldn't see behind the Russian was strangling the Spetsnaz with a chain. Quinn couldn't make much sense of it all as the second man sank a dagger into the Russian's throat. Then, he ran towards Quinn and punched her in the face. She fell to the ground and looked back up, met with the muzzle barrel of an AK47.

The man holding him, the one that killed the Russian, was old-probably in his mid-forties. He wore a dark blue hat and tattered clothing. He had a full beard and mustache like Soap formerly had, his face full of grit and grime from many days-possibly years by the look of him-of time in the Gulag. He was obviously starved-malnutrition by the looks of it-and dehydrated. He was a gaunt figure, but the most surprising part of him was the three insignias pinned to his vest. The first was the British flag, the second being the thin rectangle that read 'Captain' on it. The third, and most shocking, was the flag that held the skull with a sword through it, two wings raised proudly in the air jutting out from the blade.

The man breathed heavily, a fetid stench from his mouth engulfing Quinn's senses. The man looked at Quinn for a while, first in anger, then in confusion.

"Who-" he began in a scratchy voice.

"DROP IT!" Soap yelled behind the man, pointing an old Colt M1911 at his head. The man became even more confused, then a look of shock and recognition overcame him. "What did I just tell you? I said-"

"Soap?" The man asked, cutting him off. "Is that really you?" Soap looked equally confused as was Quinn and Worm, who was helping her up on to her feet. Soap took him by his shoulder and turned him around. For a few minutes, they stared at each other in shock.

"Price?" Soap exclaimed. He looked down at the M1911 and gave it to the man. "I don't know what happened, Price, but I do believe this belongs to you, sir." The man took the pistol from him and looked at it, a glimmer of remembrance in his eyes.

Before he could reply, the Gulag shook as explosions rocked the surface.

"They've started the bombardment early!" Shepherd cried into the radio. "My chopper is outside the main tunnel, get the hell out of there!" They ran from the room that Prisoner 627-Captain John Price-was being held in and ran down the tunnel. At the end they could see a Black Hawk waiting for them, the shapes of General Shepherd and Nick standing there waiting for them. They sprinted faster to catch up with the chopper when the ceiling came down in front of them. The rocks crushed Worm, his legs trapped under the heavy stones. Quinn ran to go help him when more slabs and rocks fell from the ceiling, completely burying him. She tried in vain to dig him out, but he was effectively trapped inside. No one could have survived the crushing weight of the stone.

Soap grabbed Quinn by the arm and led her away as they ran through the hall. One of the Russians was fumbling through the falling rubble and debris. He tried to raise his rifle, but Quinn dropped him before he got the chance. They ran into the next room, a large circular chamber. The center was piled high with rubble and a dead bomb that refused to detonate. Soap confirmed it as a dud and they looked up through the multiple levels of the Gulag into the sky above.

Soap called for an immediate evac from their position. Suddenly, the ceiling came down. Quinn looked up and saw it coming right for him. The last thing she saw was rubble and debris falling down, then she tasted blood and her world went black. The last thing she heard was Soap's desperate cry of her name.

******A few minutes later**

She opened her eyes to see Captain Price pulling rocks off of her. Price hefted one particularly large piece off of him, which was definitely surprising for him considering the fact that he looked like he could barely heft a rifle, let alone a large piece of concrete.

"Whatever you're going to do Soap," Price called. "You're going to have to do it fast!" Soap nodded and fired a red flare into the air through the holes in the ceiling.

"We see your flare!" Shepherd called. "We're sending down a SPIE Rig!" He backed away and a moment later, a long wire fell from the ceiling and down to the bottom of the chamber. Price grabbed Quinn's hand and helped her towards the rig. They connected their clips to the top of wire of the rig. Quinn unclipped one of her backup clips and gave it to Price. He clipped himself to the rig and they looked up through the holes. Suddenly, the rig lurched and they flew up to the top of the Gulag. They looked down at the collapsing castle. Price cried a victory yell that he was finally free of captivity. The entire castle exploded and the fire flew up into the air, engulfing Price, Soap, Quinn, and the entire world went black.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"___I thought I was done for when you left," Price said, recounting the events after Operation Kingfish. Quinn couldn't believe that their old Captain had survived, nor could she believe how much he'd changed from that day. After Price had washed up and eaten a full meal, he began to explain what had happened all those years ago. "The Ultranationalists were all over me. I expected them to kill me on sight, but instead they were ordered by Kingfish to bring me to Patropavlovsk. I didn't understand why they would want me there, but they stuck me in a cell at the bottom of that Gulag._

___"Kingfish-that man, Makarov I believe was his name-would have his men tie me up and would continuously beat me every time he came there. Then they would hang me by my wrists and chain me several meters in the air just to add punishment to me. They would feed me whenever they felt like it, but Makarov made sure that I was fed at least thrice a month and would make sure I got one drink every day, though I would still get dehydrated several times a month."_

___"Why did he want you alive?" Soap asked him._

___"He wanted to give me a slow and painful death," Price spat. "He wants revenge for Zakhaev's death and he's taking it out on everyone on the planet."_

___"What do you mean?" Quinn asked. "China, Japan, and England have allied with America to fend off the Russians but no one else is part of this."_

___"There will be if we don't do something quickly," Price said. "I overheard Makarov's plans; he wants exactly what Zakhaev wanted: for Russia to come back to its full power, back like the days when Stalin was the ruler. Unfortunately, he wants do it in the single most drastic way possible, a solution that Zakhaev, through all of his apparent insanity, didn't even approve of: Makarov wants to launch a full scale invasion on Europe and bring them into the war, but he won't stop there. He's going to keep attacking every continent and country on Earth and start a third World War."_

___"How could he possibly do that?" Nick asked incredulously. Price shook his head, unsure himself of how it was possible._

___"Price, General Shepherd is requesting a conference with you," Soap said from across the room. "Should I patch him through?"_

___"Aye, do it," Price replied._

___"General Shepherd," Soap said. "You're now online with Captain Price."_

___"Back from the brink, Captain," Shepherd mused from the other end of the line. They knew each other from old times past in the old days of the last war against the Ultranationalists; after all, Shepherd was the man who was in control of the ____thirty thousand marines that died in the nuclear attack in Saudi Arabia._

___"Out of the frying pan is more like it," Price replied. "From what Soap's told me, this world is more like Hell than the one I just escaped from."_

___"I'm supposing that Captain MacTavish already told you about the ACS crisis?" Shepherd asked. Price confirmed that he did and Shepherd continued. "Well, after the Task Force 141 brought it back we tried our best to secure it. Unfortunately, the Russians cracked the code embedded in the ACS and Makarov somehow got his hands on it, turning America into his scape-goat; the next thing we know, there are flames everywhere."_

___"I think I may be able to provide assistance to your troubles, General," Price told him, madly typing into the laptop and sending an encrypted message to Shepherd._

___"What's this image you're sending me?" Shepherd asked as he examined the blueprints of a large, Russian submarine as he received the message._

___"When you want to put out an oil fire, sir," Price explained. "The sensible thing to do is put off an even large explosion right next to it. Fire needs oxygen to keep burning, and when a second explosion goes off, the oxygen is snuffed up and douses both of the flames. I reckon we've got a pretty big fire, and to put it out we're going to need a very big bang."_

___"Price, you've been locked up in the Gulag too long. You'd better get your mind right, son." Shepherd growled with a hint of a threat in his voice._

___"Shepherd, are you willing to do whatever it takes to win?" Price asked him plainly. "Even if you must take the most drastic measures to do so?"_

___"Always,"_

___"Then I'll take the team to Russia to secure the submarine and carry out this new operation."_

___"No, Price!" Shepherd said. "You've got to focus on taking out Makarov."_

___"No time sir, we've got to end this war today."_

___"That's not a suggestion, Price, that's a direct order!" Shepherd said. "Now I want you to-" Price clicked a button on the monitor, ending the link._

___"Hmm," Price mumbled. "It seems that we've lost our connection."_

The air was rushing up at Quinn, ice particles blinding her in her quick decent to the ground many kilometres below. She twisted and turned as she fell to the ground, fumbling with the trigger to activate her parachute. Jumping from AC130s was not a hobby that she was keen on getting used to, nor of ever doing again. She felt sick as she continued the fall, still trying to see through the darkness to use her parachute. Finally, she found it. She pulled the string-and it snapped right off.

___Oh, bloody hell,_ Quinn thought. She couldn't see what was below her, nor could he begin to guess. She braced herself for a very hard and painful landing, covering her head and curling into a ball to protect any vital organs and other parts of her body. When she finally broke through the cloud cover, she saw a large hill in front of her, the sides sloping down gently with very few trees growing on it. She angled herself as best as she could in mid-air and aimed for the hill. Just as she was about to impact, she kicked the air sideways until she was lying on her backpack, facing the sky. The pack hit the hill with a large, jolting force.

She flipped sideways and crashed into the snow, firing a large explosion of cold, frozen water in the air around her. It went down her shirt and trousers, freezing her. When she finally stopped tumbling down the hill, she pushed herself upward, hugging herself in a vain attempt to keep out the cold. For a while, she sat there until she realized the fact that she needed to move or she'd die of hypothermia. A long, frozen river lay to her immediate West, a grove of trees surrounding her on the sides of the road she'd stopped on, and it was at least two in the morning, the snow fling around her. She searched around for her M21 EBR; her USB .45 was still inside of her holster, her backpack missing along with her EBR. She clicked on the flash light attached to her belt, shining the bright beam through the darkness until she saw a humped shape in the forest at the base of the mountain.

She walked over with stiff limbs until she reached the dark hump. When she reached it however, it shifted. At first Quinn thought it was a trick upon her eyes, but when it stood up on four legs and turned to reveal itself as a grey wolf, she realized that she was not seeing things. The wolf regarded her with cold, yellow eyes. She could feel the animal scanning him, hear it smelling the air to find her scent, analysing her to see if she was friend or foe, predator. . . or prey. She moved her hand to her belt where her USB was holstered, prompting a vicious growl from the wolf. Its ears lied flat on its head, its lips pulled back to show off its long fangs. It glared at her and growled threateningly again.

Quinn cautiously drew the pistol from its holster, then began to aim it at the ground in front of the wolf; she had no inclination to fire on the animal both to conserve the animal and because she was in awe and respect of the wonderful animal. She fired a bullet into the snow several inches in front of it. It leaped back, its tail straight, its limbs stiff, its ears were shoved forward in alarm. It looked at the hole and inched forward cautiously to inspect the hole the bullet created on impact. It sniffed the hole a bit and made what was as close to a disgusted sneer as it could form.

Quinn backed a bit, still aiming the gun at the wolf. It looked up from the ground at her and it glared at her. It gave a vicious snarl and leaped at her, knocking her on her back. It lunged for his neck, forcing Quinn to punch the wolf in the side of the jaw. Unfortunately, wolves had the jaw strength of Kodiak bears, so it hardly fazed it. She held it back, just holding off the inevitable when suddenly, it lurched as several objects hit its side. It rolled off of her, its tail tucked tightly between its legs in fear and it bolted off. Quinn stared off at it in wonder. She looked back and saw Captain Price standing there, a USP .45 in his hand, aimed in the direction of the wolf.

"I leave you alone for ten minutes and you're already getting attacked by the wolf pack?" Price greeted. Quinn didn't see it as much of a formal greeting, but accepted Price's helping hand as he helped her to her feet.

"Did you kill it?" Quinn asked.

"No," Price said. "You never kill an animal predator unless you have no choice. I simply shot it with stun darts; it'll fall asleep in a couple of hours and wake up a bit sore by mid-day. By the way, didn't I tell you to never lose your supplies?" He revealed Quinn's backpack and M21 EBR, handing them to her. She took them gratefully and followed Price to a small camp site. They rested there for the night until morning when they would begin their plan.

******8 Hours Later**

"Come on, Quinn," Price said, waking her up from her sleeping sack. She turned over and packed up her supplies, pulling on her gear and taking her M21 EBR, loading it with a magazine and fitting a suppressor on the muzzle of the sniper. With that, they set out to further down the road that followed the main river. Suddenly, helicopters carrying vehicles, supplies, equipment, and many other materials flew over the river. Price called in to report their findings but they continued moving on.

They continued moving up the road, the snow crunching under their heavy boots. The farther they moved up, the colder they got as they moved further up the mountain as they raised higher in altitude. The frigid air caused frost to form on their jackets and freeze their limbs. Suddenly, Price saw movement at the top of the road. He raised his fist and they crouched down, aiming their weapons down the road and scoping ahead.

Several Russians patrolled the road ahead, walking across the back road they were using to continue on to the next.

"Five contacts," Price said, adjusting the scope of his variable zoom. "Automatic rifles, frag grenades, and a German Shepherd,"

"Dogs," Soap growled in the radio. "I hate 'em."

"Don't worry, Soap," Price replied coaxingly. "These dogs are like pussy-cats compared to the monsters in Pripyat." Quinn vaguely remembered the dogs that were prowling the streets of Pripyat in Chernobyl, Ukraine that had viciously attacked their group and remembered that Soap had to fight off several of them at once.

"It's good to have you back, old man," Soap said.

"Roger that, 'youngster'," Price replied with a grin. He turned back to Quinn and motioned for her to follow Price up the hill behind the Russians. They hid behind the bushes and trees, scoping out the five men. Two of them stopped to smoke by the left side while the other three and the dog went further up to the right.

After they let two trucks pass them, Price gave an unspoken command and they instantaneously fired at the two on the left. Their bodies dropped soundlessly to the soft, white ground. They stalked ahead and took out the other Russians-Quinn took out the one on the far right and his dog while Price took out the two on the far left. With that, they walked across the bridge over the river below.

As they continued up the road, they saw even more helicopters carrying vehicles and supplies, as well as new mobile SAMs. Price radioed in to Soap, reporting that their intel, like almost always, was off. Then, Price raised his fist, looking around curiously.

"Did you hear that?" Price asked. Quinn listened but could only hear the wind blowing the snow around them.

"What are you-?" Quinn was cut off as a BTR flew over the hill ahead of them, training its turrets on their position.

"RUN! GET IN THE FOREST!" Quinn didn't need prompting from him, for she was already running after him. Cannon rounds flew past them, smashing into the trees and obliterating the wood, bringing half of the forest down behind them. Bullets flew around with the cannon shots, but luckily, none of the bullets nor the cannons made contact with them.

Price told Quinn to settle down, for their vehicles couldn't follow them so far into the forest. They still walked backwards, aiming their weapons towards the BTR just in case it was going to try ploughing after them. It didn't, however, come after them. The further they went into the forest, the more soldiers they came across, shining spotlights and flash lights around the darkened forest and using their dogs to scent them out.

It took a long time, but they were able to make it through the patrols and break through the forest and reached the top of the rise overlooking the village below.

Soap radioed in to report that the Americans had commandeered a mobile Predator Drone that they were able to use for surveillance and reconnaissance to take out targets on the ground with the AGM missiles loaded inside of it. Quinn took a small, portable computer from her backpack and activated it. The black and white image thermal image of the ground below allowed him to see the village. Suddenly, something sparked in the middle and a missile curved upward to the drone, shooting it out of the sky.

Quinn looked up at the cloudy, snow-flurried sky and saw a dark black dot at the SAM missile hit the predator, destroying it. Price swore and asked for Soap if they could commission another Predator UAV, but he replied that it would take at least another ten minutes before they could get it there. ___That'll have to do, __Quinn_ thought. They slid down the hill and came across a Humvee filled with weapons. Price smashed open the window of the driver's seat and unlocked the doors. They opened it up and found an assortment of AK47s, M240 Light Machine-guns, and TAR-21 Assault Rifles. Quinn grabbed the M240, hefting the massive machine gun and taking the three extra clips for it, wrapping the bullets around herself. She dropped the EBR and replaced it for a TAR-21, strapping it to her back as she followed Price-who'd kept her M21 EBR but took an AK47-who was running to the building that the SAM turret was located.

Suddenly, a Javelin missile flew from the sky and plummeted to the ground, smashing into the turret and annihilating it. Bewildered, the two looked around and saw Nick, Worm, Scarecrow, and Ozone running down the hill towards them.

"Good work taking out that last SAM site!" Price greeted merrily.

"Thanks, but we'd better keep moving," Nick panted. "The Russians followed us for miles and I doubt they'll be giving up too soon."

"Alright, well let's get to that sub, shall we?" Price said with finality. They met few Russians in their advance through the village and their engagements were short and quick. As they moved through the trails further into the forest, they came across a large refuelling plant. Russians were crawling all over, patrolling the area. Armoured Humvees, two BTRs, and a Hind patrolled the area, ensuring that the submarine would have the chance to dive under the water and escape unscathed. It was the job of the Task Force 141 to make sure that their attempts were futile.

Soap radioed in again. "The UAV is above you and patrolling the area," he reported. "Just make your shots count, these things don't just grow on trees, alright?" Price complied and Quinn took out the computer. The surveillance view showed the plant was containing at least two hundred Russians, though most of them were bunched together in tight-knit groups that would make their eradication all the easier. Explosive fuel canisters, vehicles, and buildings would also help with their deaths, but that was assuming that they he could take them all out effectively. They moved down into the main storage station, assassinating the men patrolling the area.

Thinking that the best thing to do was to destroy the Hind first and eliminate their air defences, she fired the Predator missile through the Hind's propellers, then smashed downward into the fuelling plant, killing at least half of the men in the area as the entire station collapsed on top of them, crushing stragglers.

Quinn-who was staring in shock at the chaotic destruction she'd created unintentionally-was hit from behind by Price, yelling at her to move ahead. She took her M240 and fired at the Russians that had managed to survive the assault, sprinting ahead towards the submarine. Taking cover behind some nearby crates, she fired another Predator at the refuelling dock where the BTRs were located, destroying them and the other armoured vehicles in the vicinity of the area.

The Russians were held up just before the submarine as it was taking its final preparations for its launch into the sea. They fragged the area, firing more javelins until the Russians were eliminated. Price sprinted ahead, ordering them to stay behind and hold off any possible reinforcements. They ran up on the building nearby, firing at the Russians that came back to retake the submarine launch base. Suddenly, the airlock silo doors of the sub began to open, meaning that there was some kind of launch that was going to happen.

"Price, the silo doors are open on the sub!" Nick yelled, panicked into the radio. "You've got to get out of there, now!" Price didn't answer, prompting Nick to repeat himself. When he once again did not reply, Nick yelled, "PRICE! DO YOU COPY? THE SILO DOORS ON SUB ARE OPEN! I REPEAT, THE SILO DOORS ARE OPEN!"

"Good," Price said with a content voice.

"What?" Nick asked, confused. Suddenly, the rear door on the back of the sub opened and a massive missile flew from the back, flying high into the air and out of range and lock on of their rockets. "Price, Price NO! DON'T!"

"Son of a-" Quinn muttered.

"Command, we have a nuclear missile launch!" Nick screamed. "I repeat, we have a nuclear missile launch! Code Black, CODE BLACK!"


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

"___It's been a trying week, gentlemen," Shepherd sighed, rubbing his gaunt eyes. He sat in the command office of the President's bunker. He hadn't slept for nigh on four days, too busy to so much as blink. He stood in front of the holographic transponder, viewing the whole of the Task Force 141, Price, Soap, Quinn, and Nick standing in the front. Shepherd had since forgiven Price's actions when launching the nuclear EMP, but that didn't mean that he needed to particularly happy about the ordeal. "But we will recover._

___"I've got a blank check, and we're going to spend every cent of it on our efforts to kill Makarov. He's almost destroyed the entire United States, forcing us to flatten half of the east coast. Washington D.C. and New York City are currently stable, so we didn't have to destroy them. Unfortunately, there is still a large Russian force in the states. Makarov did all of this; he's an evil man hiding in these shadows and it's all up to us to bring him into the light. Despite what the world may say, we do not kill civilians; we use precision. It's time to take payback and clear our names."_

___He tapped a few buttons on the console next to him and brought up a holographic display image of two locations on Earth: the Airplane Boneyard in Afghanistan and a luxurious estate near the Georgian and Russian border._

___"Once his face is revealed, we will be writing history, gentlemen," Shepherd said._

___"So, these are the last safe havens left on Earth for Makarov and his men, right?" Soap asked._

___"That's correct, Captain MacTavish," Shepherd replied._

___"So, there's a fifty-fifty chance of taking out Makarov, eh?" Nick asked. "That sounds like we've got to be in two places at once."_

___"Is that entirely impossible?" Shepherd asked._

___"Not for the 141," Price replied firmly._

___"Captain Price," Quinn spoke up. "Requesting permission to take the safe house with Nick and our team in Russia?"_

___"Negative," Price replied. "I'll lead the attack on the safe house. You and Soap will take the rest of the force and Shadow Company to the Boneyard in Afghanistan."_

___"Very well," Shepherd breathed with finality. "I'll assemble Shadow Company and send them en route to your men, Sergeant Fabray. Sergeant Nugent and Captain Price, I'll send an evacuation and demolition crew to your position to ____retrieve you once your mission is complete. This all ends now."_

___"Strange," Price muttered. "I could have sworn this war ended yesterday."_

Price, Nick, Scarecrow, Ozone, Worm, Charles, and Edward sat on the ridge, overlooking the forest ahead. There was a slight autumn chill in the air as the wind blew past them, rustling the leaves of the trees that were beginning to change colour. Charles and Edward were outfitted in stealth-readied ghillie suits, loading their prototype MK10 EBR Sniper Rifles with magazines holding the deadly Sabre Rounds. Charles carried an M4A1 SOPMOD strapped to his back, while Edward strapped a Javelin missile to his, readying six rockets that were included in the Care Package. Their job was to hang back and provide surveillance on the ridge as Price, Nick, and the team infiltrated the estate.

The large house sat in the center of the forest no less than a kilometre away. Solar Heat Panels were constructed in the south to provide natural electricity from within. So far as they knew, the Russians-nor Makarov-had sighted them yet. No one had even left the house in fact. The Chinooks dropped them off several miles outside of range of any known UAV Sensor radar, forcing the team to walk over twenty miles to the ridge they were at now. The extra precautions the pilots took seemed to be favourable as no one had yet noticed them.

Price pulled out an M9 pistol and slid it into his holster, making sure his two extra magazines were securely strapped to his waist. Along with them, he carried four magazines of FMJ Sabre Rounds for his ACR, two fragmentation grenades, five claymore tripwire mines, and two Flashbangs. The rest of the infantry assault team were acquitted with a similar equipment arsenal at their full disposal for dealing with Makarov and his men. Apprehension struck Price as they began to secure their equipment; today, they would finally kill Makarov and end this war. For the moment, it was simply delayed. However, when Makarov was no longer a threat, the world would finally know that America had never done the atrocity they were accused of and they could avoid Makarov's grand scheme of a third World War.

"Snipers in position," Edward reported as he and Charles lined up their sights on the forest below and around the estate safe house. "No enemy movement detected; you're clear to move in."

"Roger that," Nick complied, leading the troops down the hill. Birds called to each other throughout the forest, small animals dashed through the undergrowth, and all seemed peaceful. They walked down the hill, leaves and twigs crunching under their feet.

Suddenly, a small, circular object shot into the air in front of Price-a 'Bouncing Betty' mine. Price immediately fell to the ground as the explosion went off. He struggled to his feet, disoriented, as he spotted Russians with AK47s and RPGs on the mountain ridge to the left. Nick screamed something that was incoherent to Price, but he knew that the Russians had to be stopped. Raising his ACR, he clicked off the safety and fired at the Russians before they could open fire on them.

The ground shook as something hit it. A large mortar shell smashed into the ground in front of him, knocking over trees. Then, more Russians emerged from the forest and opened fire on them. They had walked directly into Makarov's ambush. A Ghillie Sniper arose from the grass, aiming a Dragunov at them-its sights trained directly on Price.

******The Boneyard, Afghanistan**

Quinn loaded her MP5 and MK10 EBR, walking behind Soap. He had a machete strapped to his back. She nodded to it and asked, "Where did that come from?"

"Armoury," Soap replied with a smile. Quinn grinned and the two of them formed up with the rest of the Task Force 141. To the right of their large group, an even large group that made up General Shepherd's elite forces, Shadow Company, walked beside them. The new United States Military Commander, Jason Fry-the new nicknamed 'Overlord'- was providing information and coverage for their operation in Afghanistan.

Quinn was still immensely surprised that Baseplate was not helping them as they were closer, but she was not going to contemplate the reason for it. After all, Overlord needed more experience in his position, and now he had his shot. They advanced through the destroyed planes into the Boneyard when suddenly, a T-55 appeared and fired its cannons, tearing into their forces. The battle had begun.

******Makarov's Estate, Georgian-Russian Border**

"Price, get up! We've got to go or we're dead before we've even begun!" Nick screamed. Rock, bark, dirt, and flame flew every which way as the mortar shells smashed into the ground around them. Smoke grenades detonated within the forest, throwing up a thick, massive smoke screen in front of them, covering the Russians as they fell back from sight, randomly firing bullets at the positions of the Task Force 141.

Price struggled to stand up, bringing himself to his feet in pain. Grabbing his ACR, he followed Nick behind a small clump of boulders where the rest of the team was taking cover. The Ghillies were busy firing at the Russians through the smoke with their thermal sights that they had decided to bring along with the variable zoom sights.

"The Russians have pre-sighted this area with mortar fire," Nick told them.

"Want to tell us something we don't know?" Price growled irritably. Nick began to formulate a plan to get through the smoke screen when suddenly, a missile flew high into the air from the direction of the estate. They watched as it flew high into the air, then plummeted to the ground right for them.

They dashed into the smoke, figuring that their chances blind against prepared enemies were better than getting blown to pieces behind rocks. They pushed through the smoke and out into the open, firing at the Russians and finishing off those who began to run away from them. When all was clear, they moved up to the Solar Heat Panels just a few hundred meters from the Estate.

Two armoured vehicles began to drive away down the dirt road. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, they raised their weapons and fired at the trucks. The bullets impacted on the metal and glass, but it only left scratches and small cracks. The trucks had been reinforced for bulletproof capabilities, not allowing them to hit the trucks. Two large missiles flew from the ridge, each one smashing into the trucks, annihilating them. No one could have possibly survived the explosions, nor the crushing force of the missiles hitting them.

Not sighting Makarov, the Ghillies reported that the trucks were most likely decoys to throw them off track, and no one else had exited the house from any side. They complied and moved up to the sides, placing frame charges on the doors. Price and Nick formed up on the front door, and then swung in as the frame charge blew it inward. They fired at the Russians inside, clearing the house of all enemies inside. Price cleared out the top floor and found several weapons caches, mainly including M240 Medium Machine Guns, AK47s, TAR-21s, AK74u Submachine Guns, and RPGs.

Down in the basement, the team discovered an extensive armoury that included hundreds of assault rifles, magazines, bullets, grenades, mines, and hundreds of lethal weapons for Makarov's private army. As they formed up on the main floor, they checked the various computers, monitors, papers, blueprints, and schematics that were lying around the house. Price went into the living room-at least, it would have been a living room if it wasn't used for Makarov's safe house-and looked at the pictures on the table.

Many of them were pictures of Zakhaev National Airport, providing Makarov with every single detail of the place. He must have been planning his attack for a long time, Price thought. As it was, Makarov had been plotting and planning ever since Zakhaev's death, just waiting for the chance to attack for these five long years.

There were pictures that Price recognized, too: one of them he remembered, featuring himself, Soap, and the rest of Bravo 6, their old unit within the British SAS. Makarov had been planning this for a long time, that was true, but there were information sheets around the room that made far less sense. There was a photograph of General Shepherd with a red letter X placed at the bottom right of the paper. He had no idea what quarrel Makarov had with Shepherd, but then again, Makarov hated all Americans. Perhaps he was Makarov's primary target? He was sure that he would find out soon enough, but continued to search the house.

"Scarecrow, take some photographs," Price ordered as Scarecrow went off to do as he was told. "Captain MacTavish, Sergeant Fabray, General Shepherd, this is Price. There is no sign of Makarov, I repeat, there is no sign of Makarov. Is there any luck in Afghanistan?"

"Plenty," Soap replied. "There are at least fifty hired gunmen here with their own individual squadrons and regiments but like with you, there's no sign of Makarov. Of course, our intel was off as always."

"Well the quality of the intel is about to change," Price reported. "This safe house is a bloody gold mine."

"Copy that, Price," Shepherd spoke up. "Now, I want your team to collect everything for an Operations Playbook. I want names, dates, locations; hell, I want you to get everything left in that house."

"We're already on it sir," Ghost reported. "Makarov will have nowhere left to run."

"That's the idea," Shepherd said. "I'll get an extraction force ETA 5 minutes. Get that intel secure and meet me in the fields to the south. Shepherd out." Price nodded to Nick and Nick returned the gesture. He grabbed a DSM Transfer Module from his pack and hooked it up to the main computer module in the front of the house. He clicked a button and the module began to siphon all of the data from the computer and saved it on the DSM.

"This is it," Nick muttered.

******Makarov's Estate, Georgian-Russian Border-Minutes later**

"There's an enemy helo coming from the south of the estate!" Scarecrow cried. Price turned around and sure enough, a Hind was flying from across the lake towards them. Price called in for the sniper team to take them out, only to be informed that their Javelin missiles were running dangerously low. Roach didn't have time for their worries, however, and ordered them to fire it anyway. They grumbled at the other end of the radio, but fired the rocket nevertheless.

The data transfer was taking far longer than it should have to complete, and they had been holding off the Russian forces for nearly half an hour. The transfer continuously delayed as well, only adding to the tension amongst the group. Price ran up to the DSM and glared at the dusty screen, only to see that it was only ninety-four percent complete. He swore and retook his position at the window, firing at the Russians coming from the boat house to the south.

They were outnumbered, outgunned, and barely holding out, waiting for a bloody computer to decide their fate. Suddenly, a bullet flew through the window and smashed into Scarecrow's skull. Price cried out and sprinted to Scarecrow, but it was already too late-he was dead before he hit the floor. Infuriated, Price threw a frag grenade down the hill and fired bullets into their chest areas to add the most pain; they deserved no less for killing so many people. Couldn't the Russians see that they were trying to save the world, not destroy it? Obviously not, thought Price. Else this war would have ceased to exist the day it began.

Then, the computer began to beep uncontrollably. Price rushed to the monitor and gasped in relief as the bar read 'Installation Completed'. He called out to Nick who was taking up a position in the office with Worm and Ozone. The three of them followed Price as he grabbed the DSM and hooked it to his belt. They sprinted down the hill, gunfire flying after them. A bullet hit Ozone and he went down. He struggled to stand back up and run after them, but more flew into him before he could make the vain attempt.

Worm suffered the fate of dying by the cold, metallic clutches of a mortar shell. That left Nick and Price to sprint down the hill and get to the evacuation site in the field just beyond the forest. The two dodged bullets, mortars, grenades, and RPG fire as they made their harried escape. Mortars rained down inside and around the forest. Trees snapped like twigs, boulders were blown to pieces, and the hill was torn apart as easily as wet paper. As they neared the field, Price could see at least twenty helicopters rising from the forest beyond, bullets and rockets already tearing into the Russian forces behind them. Then, with a skull-jolting explosion, a mortar smashed directly next to Nick, throwing him across the field.

"Nick, don't worry!" Price screamed. "I've got you! Dagger Two-One, I've popped red smoke at the tree line! Standby to engage on my mark!"

"Roger that, 141, we're spinning up the big guns!" The pilot of the Little Bird replied. Price handed Nick an AK47 and began to drag him across the field towards the fleet of helicopters.

Nick began to fire upon the Russians in the forest with his AK47, but his vision was beginning to ebb and fade as he did so. None of the bullets hit, but Dagger Two-One's machine guns were doing the work for him. Suddenly, a bullet flew into Nick's chest. He screamed in pain, releasing the AK47 as Price continued to drag him across the field. He closed his eyes, losing consciousness.

"Come on!" Price yelled. "Get up, get up! We're almost there!" Nick painfully struggled to his feet as Price supported him. Ahead, a Chinook was landing in the field, the grass billowing and waving as they neared. A Colonel clad in his United States Military uniform, stepped out to greet them.

"Do you have the DSM?" He called.

"Don't worry, we've secured it sir!" Price replied. Shepherd put Nick's arm over his shoulder to help support him. A look of relief washed over him.

"Good that's one less loose end," he said. Then, with a swift, precise movement, he pulled out a .44 Magnum and went to shoot Nick in the stomach. However, Price was faster and slid a knife into the mans neck, before pulling out his M9 and putting a round into the heads of the pilot and co pilot.

Price dragged Nick onto the Chinook, just as Charles and Edward arrived.

"What the hell happened here?" Charles asked in shock.

"I'll explain on the way, Edward help me patch up Nick, Charles take the controls and get us out of here."

******The Boneyard, Afghanistan**

"Something's not right here," Quinn muttered as they continued to fight off Makarov's forces and push closer into the Boneyard. She hadn't heard from Price, Nick, or any of the Task Force 141 in Russia for some time.

A Little Bird soared overhead, a BTR thundered past them. They had fortunately suffered only a few casualties, but Quinn was unsure of what was going to happen next. Then, Shadow Company encircled the Task Force as Quinn began to radio in on Nick's channel. The soldiers raised their weapons, training them on Quinn, Soap, and the Task Force 141. Quinn and Soap stood back to back, knowing it would be the last time they did so.

As their so-called allies opened fire on them, Quinn screamed into the radio, warning Nick. "Nick, come in, this is Quinn! Shepherd's men are attacking us in the Boneyard! Do not trust Shepherd, I say again, DO NOT TRUST SHEPHERD!" Suddenly, the Little Bird returned, training its rockets on Soap.

"SOAP, LOOK OUT!" Quinn screeched. The last thing she saw was her friend engulfed in the flames.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

_"__Nick?" Quinn called into the radio. "Nick? Come in Nick! It's Quinn! Do you copy, does anyone out there copy?" Quinn was frantic, practically on the verge of panic as she searched every available channel that led to the radio communications used by Nick and Price's team in Russia. There was no response from any of them, and Quinn was utterly alone. When she awoke, she found herself alone in the clearing, surrounded by rotting corpses. Sickened, she searched the bodies, dreading to find Soap among the dead._

___Not again, Quinn pleaded. Please, not again! Fortunately, Captain MacTavish was not among the dead, but nor was he among the living. Quinn looked around the massacre and found no one, not even Shadow Company. Figuring that Soap must have been captured by Shepherd's men, she set off in the direction they had been heading: towards Makarov._

___She tried Soap's radio, and luckily he answered it unlike the men in Russia._

___"Soap, I can't get a hold of Price or Nick," Quinn reported. "Shepherd's probably jamming-"_

___"They're dead Quinn," Soap growled flatly. "Shepherd's busy cleaning house; I'm working my way back to you, just hold your current position."_

___Fury washed over Quinn as she let Soap's words____ sink in. Nick and Price were both dead. Killed in Action. KIA. _Gone___. Forever. He seethed as he realized what was truly happening. General Shepherd had played them like puppets in his own masterfully deceptive game. If they were the puppets, then that meant that Shepherd was the puppeteer. Perhaps it wasn't even Makarov that started the war, but Shepherd instead._

___"Shepherd betrayed us," Quinn snarled._

___"You've got to trust someone to be betrayed," Soap said. "That's why I never did. Nikolai, this is Soap, do you have our location?"_

___"Da, inbound Price!" Nikolai replied from the other end of the radio. "But I am not the only one! You've got Shepherd's men on one side and Makarov's on the other. My men picked up a few of your men from Russia, they confirmed that Shepard is behind this!"_

___Quinn felt her heart leap, some of the task force, maybe that meant Nick and Price, she would find out later, were still alive._

___"Speaking of the bastard," Soap said. "I know Makarov's communications channel."_

___"Patch us through," Quinn growled. Soap complied and they were met with static and the sound of gunfire in the background._

___"Makarov, this is Captain MacTavish," he said. "Shepherd's a war hero now and he's got your operations playbook. Both of us are wanted men, so we can help each other. Give me what you've got on Shepherd and I'll take care of the rest." There was still no response. "I know you can hear me on this channel, Makarov, and we both know that you won't last a week."_

___"And neither will you." Makarov retorted flatly._

___"Makarov, have you ever heard the old saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"_

___"MacTavish, one day you are going to find that that saying cuts both ways," Makarov replied. "Nevertheless, Shepherd is a thorn in my side as you would say. He and his men are using Hotel Site Bravo deep in Afghanistan. You know where it is, MacTavish; I'll see you Hell."_

___"I'm looking forward to it," Soap said. "Make sure to give my regards to Zakhaev; you'll be getting their first." That made Makarov give a small chuckle._

___"We shall see, Captain," Makarov said. "But do not think that this temporary alliance will make me call off my men. If they find you, you'll be giving your own regards. Makarov out."_

___"I hate that man," Quinn growled._

___"Well there's no helping him," Soap said. "This means we'll have to take them both out."_

___"Or let them take each other out," Nikolai suggested. "Either way, I'll see you on the far side, my friends."_

"Quinn, let Makarov and Shepherd's men kill each other off as much as you can!" Soap yelled into his radio. "Me and the Rook are heading to Rally Point Bravo to the northwest!"

"Alright," Quinn replied. "I'll get there as soon as I can."

"We're hunting down some transport and we'll meet you at the primary LZ at the main road," Soap informed him. "Nikolai, do you have transport for us?"

"Da, but there is a sandstorm forming around Kandahar," he replied. "I'm going to have to fly around it. Just get the situation under control before I get there, alright?"

"Fine, Nikolai. Just get here, sharpish!" With that, Soap cut the radio link, leaving Quinn to deal with the men alone.

The Little Bird's machine guns tore through the Russians with a deadly ease. Quinn, dressed in her Ghillie suit, hid behind a large plane as she surveyed the battlefield. The Americans were making short work of the Russians, and Soap knew that meant that they could just as easily make short work of him as well. She clutched her M10 EBR with a tight death grip, trying in vain to coax her mind into ease.

An RPG shot out and hit the Little Bird. It spun around in circles, flipping over and smashing into the ground. It was soon hidden in the bright orange flames of a massive explosion. Shrapnel and severed body parts flew every which way, jettisoned by the force of the helicopter's crash. It was at that moment that Quinn witnessed the horrendous brutality that was enforced by the men of Shepherd's army, Shadow Company.

One of the men was caught in the explosion and was crawling across the grass, crying out for help. He was no more than twenty one years old and was screaming in pain. A medic walked up to him, the man holding out a hand for assistance. He took his hand and hefted him up-then brought up a handgun, shoved it under his chin, and fired the bullet through the back of his skull. Blood sprayed from the other side of his head as the bullet tore through his skull, organs, muscle tissue, and flesh. He slumped to the ground in a lifeless heap, the medic kicking the body of his own comrade down in a ditch on the side of the road ahead.

Quinn was thoroughly disgusted through and through, her hatred for these men and their evil leader rising when she saw the kid die. Raising her EBR, she aimed at the medic, sighted his forehead, and fired a bullet through his brain. He lurched backward as though someone snapped his spine and he fell backward. No one went to collect his dog tags, and no one went to retrieve his body. The BTR rolled past, tearing into the Russian forces ahead.

What Shepherd had been thinking when he commissioned such ruthless, heartless shells of men into service was beyond Quinn's reasoning save for-for. . . a third World War? It seemed as though everything Rojas had told them about Makarov was true, but not directed towards him. Not all of it, at least. Quinn never thought that Zakhaev would allow for a psychopath like Makarov to stay unchecked even in his own death if he so much as had a single fraction of a thought that he might bring it to the extreme and ignite a World War. No, Shepherd was behind this somehow, and he was working with Makarov.

How and why Quinn knew not, but what she did know was that it was imperative that she, Price, and any of the Task Force 141 that had survived the purge regrouped and took down Shepherd for what he'd done. After what felt like an eternity, the Americans and Russians killed each other off, the rest escaping to regroup with their individual forces.

Taking the moment of opportunity to its fullest and sprinted across the blood stained, gore ridden massacre. The planes and cars littering the area were half destroyed from the fighting, Shadow Company causing the vast majority of the damage. It seemed to Quinn that they were keen on annihilating everything in their path, humans, animals, and mechanical parts alike. F-18 Bombers screamed as they flew overhead, destroying more of the Boneyard as Shadow Company pushed forward. If a bomb came too close and accidentally hit one of their own troops, they killed the injured or left them to die, slowly and painfully. Whenever Quinn came across these men, she would put them out of their misery that would surely be wrought upon them if they lived any longer.

Just as Nikolai had suggested, Quinn allowed Shadow Company and Makarov's men to kill each other as much as possible while she snuck idly by them. A plane lying torn apart allowed him access to the rest of the Boneyard up ahead. As he walkthrough the wreckage, she heard a rumbling sound from above. She raced towards the cockpit-at least, where the cockpit would have been had it not been blown off-and looked out through the gaping hold into the sky.

A massive AC130 flew overhead. The men on the ground several meters below stopped fighting momentarily to watch the plane, trying to determine if it was friendly or not. They didn't, however, seem to care too much and began to resume their bloody conflict. The AC130 fired flares from its sides, blinding the men in the area as it flew away.

"Captain MacTavish!" Nikolai shouted. "I am flying overhead! I see that you do not have the situation under control as I requested!"

"We're working on it Nikolai!" Soap growled. "Just get to that LZ. I've found some transport and we'll be getting there soon." He cut the link again and Quinn ran forward, this time drawing her compact MP5K Sub machine Gun with an attached suppressor, grip, and rapid fire capability. She sprinted up the hill across the street, only to be met with more gunfire. She swore and hid behind cover, waiting for the gunfire to subside enough for him to pass through.

"Captain MacTavish!" Nikolai shouted. "I'm nearing the primary LZ; you're going to have to be quick if you want your rid out of here!"

"Quinn, Nikolai's not going to wait for us!" Soap said. "Where the bloody hell are you?"

"I'm getting there!" Quinn responded, shooting down one of the soldiers. "If I'm not back in two minutes, leave and get out of here!" Soap denounced that action, however, as he did not wish to see any more of his friends die.

Finally, there was an air of opportunity as Nikolai's AC130 flew overhead, one of the men inside firing a .50 millimetre cannon shot below, annihilating the men holding Quinn back.

"Now, hurry my friend!" Nikolai yelled. Quinn thanked Nikolai gratefully and sprinted through the wreckage and the body parts. At the end of the street were several soldiers aiming their weapons at Quinn. Suddenly, a Humvee ran into them, throwing their bodies lifelessly away. Soap stood from the back and fired several shots into the soldiers with his UMP .45 SMG.

"Get in, now!" He screamed. Quinn sprinted ahead and jumped in the front seat. Rook turned back to the wheel and slammed the pedal. The car flew backward and he turned the wheel, making the car screech across the pavement. He shoved the stick in the middle of the car forward and the Humvee lurched forward.

They sped through the remnants of the Boneyard as it was being destroyed. Russians and Shadow Company alike drove their own vehicles around them, shooting at their Humvee as they made their harried escape. Planes exploded as they flew forward, some almost crushing them. A white pickup truck sped in front of them, two Russians shooting at them from the back. Quinn ducked down and fired at them through the windshield, killing them both. The drivers, however, were not keen on giving up so quickly.

They turned the car sideways and the driver raised a G18 Full Automatic Pistol out the window. Rook floored the pedal and they smashed into the car, sending it into the engine of a jet. The engine exploded in a massive, blinding light of heat and energy. Rook drove through it, gathering ashes and sparks inside of it. They drove forward and they slammed onto the runway. The AC130 flew low overhead, the wheels and landing gears jutting outward.

Rook turned towards it and sped forward towards the AC130. More cars and armoured vehicles entered the area from both sides, shooting at their Humvee. Rook manoeuvred around them, his young face tight with concentration.

"Nikolai, lower that bloody ramp!" Soap screamed. Nikolai complied and the ramp began to lower, sparks flying out from under it as it scraped across the stone surface. A bullet flew through the already-cracked windshield, flying through the forehead of Rook, killing him instantly. Soap and Quinn swore in unison as the life left his body. Quinn moved her foot to the pedal and slammed it down, taking the wheel as she manoeuvred the Humvee to the ramp.

Bullets hit the sides of the car as they made their escape, more flying into the AC130. They flew up the ramp and into the hollowed underbelly of the plane, Quinn slamming the breaks as they hit the floor. The door began to close as Quinn and Soap exited the Humvee. Quinn gathered up Rook's body and laid him on a cot to the left, covering his body with a nearby sheet. She gave a short salute and followed Soap up the stairs to the cockpit.

"Get out of here, FLY!" Soap screamed. Nikolai complied and pulled back on the throttle, the AC130 flying up and over the runway and escaping the Boneyard, leaving behind the chaotic scene behind them.

"What are we going to do now?" Nikolai asked.

"There's a place in Afghanistan we can hide out and refuel," Soap replied. "Now we just have to figure out what the bloody hell is going on."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

___The airfield was abandoned, the runway beginning to crack and weather as the sandstorm that passed through Kandahar earlier blew against its rugged surface. Landing the AC130 on the runway, Nikolai disengaged the landing gears and the massive plane touched down and came to a steady stop at the bottom. They walked outside from the rear hatch, all three of them carrying the limp body of Rook outside of the plane to the base outside._

___The base was formerly owned by the United States Marines, but they had no use for it half way through their war against Al Qaeda. Quinn and Soap carried Rook across the runway as Nikolai checked the fuel canisters. He tore off sections of metal when the monitors refused to work and looked inside manually._

___"There is still fuel left underground!" Nikolai reported. "There is not enough for the '130, but if we can find any vehicles around here, we should be able to fly out of here!" Soap grunted an affirmative as they carried Rook inside of the building. Quinn laid him on the ground as Soap attempted to unlock the metal door. Its access terminal would not accept the codes he typed, so he took out his knife and stabbed the control panel, causing the door to slide open. They took Rook's body and continued inside._

___Nikolai joined them and helped Soap while Quinn scouted the rest of the base for any sign for people inside, particularly Shadow Company. The darkened halls cast long, foreboding shadows along the grey metal walls. Soap got an eerie feeling walking through them._

___When they reached the control room, Soap and Nikolai laid Rook on a table, wrapping his body in a black bag, taking his dog tags from his neck. As habit for Soap, he hung the tags around his neck. The tags he now wore were those of Staff Sergeant Griggs, Gaz, Rook, and one of their Russian allies back in the first war against the Ultranationalists._

___Not wishing to take any risks, Soap refrained from opening the shutters over the windows of the base that overlooked the airfield and training grounds. He gathered any flammable material and set them on a monitor that he sealed off with metal crates so that the flames wouldn't spread. He took out a lighter from his pocket and lit the pile on fire, illuminating the control center._

___"There," he muttered. "That's better." With that, they gathered around the fire, trying to warm themselves in the cold, dark base._

___"What the bloody hell happened?" Quinn asked, shaking her head. "Price, Nick-for all we know, the entire Task Force-they're all . . . gone." She had difficulty uttering the words, wishing that she could deny the possibility that ____their friends, men whom they worked with for years, had just been betrayed and murdered in cold blood. Her hatred for Shepherd grew as she saw the faces of the men who died in Russia and Afghanistan._

_"__It takes a lot to kill us." A voice said from behind the two of them, turning, they saw Nick, Price, Charles and Edward. Quinn jumped to her feet and pulled Nick into a hug, while Soap nodded to his oldest friend and Price returned the nod._

___"I may not know everything," Price said. "But I think I can put some pieces together. Remember how Shepherd told us that the Russians acquired the key to every lock in America when they broke through the defences of the ACS module?"_

___"Da, I remember," Nikolai spoke. "I couldn't believe it; the ACS was hacked in record time, in mere minutes the Russians got everything."_

___"Exactly," Price said, standing up. "That was what Shepherd wanted: the only possible way that the Russians could hack the ACS was if they had the passcode into the mainframe, which we all know only the high commanding officers of the nations. Who else could give them that code other than General Shepherd himself? What's more, the ACS crashed for an unknown reason. I did some research once I was rescued after you told me about the ACS; it took me a long while, but I was able to uncover that the module was manually set to a crash course in Russia. Also, I've noticed that there has been a bit of an excess of materials shipped from America to foreign countries._

___"I didn't think much of it; not at first, that is. Then I realized that General Shepherd was the commanding officer of the marines and about one hundred soldiers for his own private use, not including the One-Four-One."_

___"Shadow Company," Nick said._

___"Precisely," Price replied. "Even then Shadow Company was brutal and ruthless, known for their atrocities as much as their battles won. The leaders of the world made mistakes in the past, but I doubt that President Obama would have made such a mistake as to allow Shepherd to retain such a horrible force, at least not at the size he wished. Hence the nuclear warhead that killed the marines in Saudi Arabia five years ago. I did some research which could have gotten me locked up in another cell in America and uncovered that in several isolated places in America, particularly the far west of Alaska and swamps in Florida have been places of material transportation to foreign countries. Of course, I use the word 'foreign' loosely as we are foreign to America._

___"This was the most disturbing part. The materials were transported to Patropavlovsk and the capital of Saudi Arabia, two places that were seemingly random and bore no possible relation to America. I was extremely interested in ____the exchange of materials and dove further in to figure out who these materials were going to and what the materials were in the first place. The crates were weapons caches, ammunition, armour, and several hundred kilos of nuclear warheads, all being transported to our old acquaintances, Khaled Al-Asad and Imran Zakhaev._

___"I also saw an old transmission that was recorded the very moment the marines were leaving the city. This particular conversation was between our two newest enemies, General Shepherd and Vladimir Makarov. I always assumed that Zakhaev was the source of the nuclear warhead, but never delved deeper to see if the warhead was actually of Russian origin. Nay, it was all Shepherd's doing; he sent the warhead to Zakhaev, who in turn handed it to Makarov and Al-Asad who placed it in the city. As soon as that warhead detonated, the loss of thirty thousand marines removed a thorn in Shepherd's side, allowing him to ask the President for a new, elite force: Shadow Company._

___"I always wondered why I was truly being kept in the Gulag rather than killed. Back in Chernobyl in Operation Kingfish, you were ordered to leave the area immediately rather than wait for me to get on board, despite the fact that the Rangers, Marines, SEALs, the US Military, and every individual American detachment of ground forces have a strict rule to never leave a man behind, yet you were ordered to leave me in Russia. I did see Makarov when I was locked in the Gulag, but he only came to give me ferocious beatings, making sure to keep me alive despite the fact that he hated us for killing Zakhaev._

___"In truth, it was Shepherd who wanted me alive. I don't know why he decided to lock me up without killing me; perhaps he was just waiting to confront me directly or he had some other plans for me, I don't know. What I do know is that this whole time, we've been fooled by Shepherd. This plot goes back for years and no one was smart enough to realize that the Shepherd's been working with our enemies this whole time."_

___"This is insanity," Soap said. "Yet, everything that you said makes sense. Perhaps not all of it, but without a doubt, Shepherd was never our ally. We were simply pawns in his own game."_

___"That's perfect," Quinn said. "We've got four good soldiers and they've got a thousand. We don't even know if Makarov's intel is any good." It was a sobering realization that left Soap to stand their quietly, his mind hard at work. "Soap, what are we going to do now?" He did not respond. "Soap," Quinn said, but once again, he did not say anything. "Soap?"_

___"The healthy human mind doesn't wake up in the morning thinking that this is its last day on earth," Price said, speaking for Soap. "But I think that's a luxury, not a curse. Knowing that you're closer to the end is a kind of freedom. It's a good time to take . . . inventory. Outgunned. Outmanned. Out of our minds and ____on a suicide mission. But yet the sand and rocks here are stained with a thousand years of warfare. They will remember us for this, because, out of all of our vast array of nightmares this is the one we choose for ourselves. We walk forward like a single breathe exhaled from the earth. With vigour in our hearts we know with utmost certainty of our mission: We. Will. Kill him."_

___He walked to the back of the control center and pulled open a cabinet, filled with weapons and equipment. He laid them on the table for the three of them observe. Two pairs of night vision goggles. A suppressed Vector SMG with an attached grip and ACOG sight. A suppressed ACR. Two suppressed Intervention Sniper Rifles with variable zoom capabilities. Price's own Colt M1911, Soap's M9 pistol, Nick's Desert Eagle, Quinn's P99 and Charles and Edward's various equipment. Nine Flashbangs. Eight fragmentation grenades. Soap's Combat Knife and two refurbished Juggernaut suits. These were weapons that they were going to use to their fullest extent. No matter what, they would kill General Shepherd and Vladimir Makarov. Nikolai confirmed that there were two abandoned Little Bird in the hangar bay that was still fully functional. It was time to confront them and end this. Once and for all._

_"__My men have located Makarov, he is using a hotel as a safehouse," Nikolai spoke up, "However, we need to strike both targets now, or we lose the opportunity to take out one of them."_

_"__Permission to take General Shepard with Soap?" Quinn asked Price, seeing as he was still the highest ranked officer with them._

_"__Granted. Nick and I will take Makarov. Nikolai, take Quinn and Soap to Hotel Bravo. Give Charles and Edward the coordinates of Makarov's safe house and we'll head there."_

___Nikolai nodded and the remaining members of the Task Force 141 began to suit up._

"Call when you're ready," Nikolai told them in their radio channels. "I can pick you up ETA three hours.

"Don't bother," Soap replied. "This was a one-way flight, mate." Nikolai sounded like he was going to protest, but said nothing.

"Well," Nikolai sighed. "Good luck to you." He muttered something in Russian and cut the link, his Little Bird flying off into the desert. Quinn peered out from the cover of the sheet covering her body as she lay flat on the sand. Ahead, there was an irregular bulge on the surface of the desert. An arm shot out from the side, holding up a hand in front of Quinn. The arm slid back in and the bulge began to crawl across the sand.

Quinn followed Soap's lead as they used the sheets both for cover from watchful eyes and to protect their eyes from the sandstorm whirling around them. When the storm began to light down, they stood up and abandoned the sheets to the sand, walking down the dunes and hills. They came across an old ditch, which upon further inspection proved to be a dried ravine.

They followed the ravine further up and over the dunes. At the last dune, they crawled over and were met with the sight of a large canyon. At the other side of the canyon was a stone dam constructed by the Americans: Hotel Site Bravo. On their side of the canyon was a highway. Two armoured vehicles sat parked in the middle of the highway, five Shadow Company soldiers standing in the middle of the street along with a German Shepherd.

"Well, it looks like Makarov's intel was solid," Quinn observed.

"Aye, that it is," Soap replied. "If his intel proves to be half useful, then it should also indicate that Shepherd is somewhere in that mess of a base. How we're going to get inside is a whole new prospect, however."

"When those men split up-at least, if they split up-we can take them out quietly and hopefully rappel down the side of the mountain or try to find another entrance."

"And if they don't split?"

"Then we take . . . unconventional measures." Soap nodded and they waited patiently for the soldiers to disperse. When they began to think that they wouldn't, two of the men walked off further down the road, leaving three soldiers and the dog to deal with. Soap aimed his Intervention at two of the soldiers while Quinn took aim at the third man and the dog.

"Three, two, one, mark," Soap said, and they fired their snipers. Soap's shot went through the heads of both of his targets, while Quinn had to take two shots for the man and the dog. They slid down the dune and onto the highway below. Stalking the two soldiers on the highway, they aimed their snipers and dropped the soldiers soundlessly.

As soon as they did so, they ran to the railing of the mountain and looked down. About one kilometre down was the bottom of the canyon, though there was an irregular overhang below that suggested a cave. They hooked their rappel lines to the railing and rappelled down the mountain to the cave. Two soldiers from Shadow Company stood underneath the overhand, oblivious to their presence above them.

Their guns were strapped to their backs, their combat knives drawn. They slid down slowly and silently. By an unspoken command, the two grabbed the mouths of the soldiers and plunged the knives into their throats. As the man Soap stabbed struggled, he glared at Soap with two hard, blue eyes. He tried to scream but he gurgled through his mask and underneath the leather covering the lower half of his face, Soap could feel through his heavy gloves a sticky, hot wetness underneath. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground.

He and Quinn slid the rest of the way down and disengaged their rappelling lines. Taking out his ACR and Quinn taking out her Vector, they advanced into the cave. Inside, a man standing in front of a security television stood with his back to them. Soap was about to kill the man, but dove to the left instead when he noticed an enemy patrol rounding the corner. Quinn followed him and the two hid behind crates off ammunition in a small alcove.

The soldiers approached the man at the security television and talked to him.

"Kilo 5-1 isn't reporting back, can you see anything?" One of the men asked him.

"Beats me, sir," he replied. "There are no cameras in that sector so I wouldn't know myself. It's probably the sandstorm rolling in or a bad transmitter."

"Well we're going to check it out," the man said. "Call in if you see anything." He nodded and returned his view to the television as the squadron left the cave. Quinn stalked forward and dispatched the man at the camera with his combat knife. Soap motioned for Quinn to follow him and they continued further into the cave.

They manoeuvred around the men inside, narrowly dodging their eyes and ears as they continued deeper into Hotel Sight Bravo. Two soldiers began walking down a staircase, but were once again dispatched as the two of them killed the soldiers. Soap killed the man at the top of the stairs, and then moved into a large cavern.

Deploying their night vision goggles, they advanced inside of the cave. Suddenly, enemy radio transmissions could be heard in their own radios.

"BREACHING, BREACHING!" A man from Shadow Company yelled. The entire rear of the cavern blew to pieces and soldiers walked inside, aiming their weapons around the cave.

"Go loud!" Soap yelled and they aimed their weapons at the incoming soldiers, firing suppressed bullets into their bodies. They crumpled to the ground as the bullets sank into their bodies. The gunfight lasted only a few brief moments before they ran outside of the gaping hole in the wall. Soap noticed riot shields lying on the rock wall. He pointed and Quinn nodded, taking one of the shields. They didn't understand what was going on, but they were catching conversations from enemy radio.

"Sir, Kilo 5-1 just flat lined!" The man who led the squad out of the cave reported. "There was no one in that sector and I don't know what's-"

"It's Soap," an older voice said: it was Shepherd. "I want them dead, soldier. Do anything you can to kill them now!"

"Yes sir!" The man replied. Quinn ran up on the walkway with her riot shield while Soap held back, taking aim with his Intervention.

"Avatar 2-1, we have unknown bogeys on the walkway!" Suddenly, ten soldiers appeared on the other side of the walkway ahead, shooting at Quinn with all of the ammunition they had. The bullets impacting on the surface forced Soap backward, but only momentarily. She forced herself to continue onward, the bullets hitting the riot shield with the force of a bull. Soap, however, had the area thoroughly covered, killing the soldiers just before Quinn reached them.

Abandoning the riot shield, she motioned for Soap to follow her. She nodded and sprinted up the walkway with Quinn as they ran forward into the base. A helicopter dropped off more soldiers as they continued on, but they were no match for Soap and Quinn-they were prepared for everything that Shepherd might throw at them, or rather, ___shoot_ at them. Hiding behind crates, they used frag grenades to flush out the men with riot shields and used their own ingenuity to take care of the soldiers around them.

More troops flushed into the area, however, forcing Soap to take drastic measures. At the end of the cave was a fuel canister positioned just right so that if it were to implode, the men around it would be destroyed with the force of the explosion. Reloading his ACR, he took aim and fired at the fuel canister. It exploded in a ball of fire and caused part of the ceiling to collapse. Those who were not immediately killed by the explosion were buried under the rubble.

Quinn approved of Soap's actions and they continued on. In the next cave, smoke grenades were detonated, covering the attacking approach of Shadow Company. Using their night vision goggles, they were able to dig out most of the troops, but Quinn was forced to circle around and throw frag grenades at the men as they took fire from Soap. Quinn called the all-clear and they rushed down the next hall towards a recently slammed door.

Quinn shot the hinges-they had not thought to bring a wall charge with them-and Soap kicked in the door. They fired at the men inside and cut them all down. There were several crates full of C4 explosives inside of the room as well as multiple terminals and computers inside. Quinn threw Soap a flash drive that of which he plugged into the main terminal and began to upload the door controls and download the information stored inside for their own use.

"Shadow Company is this Gold Eagle," Shepherd said over the intercom throughout the base. "I'm detonating the base in thirty seconds. If you're still inside, your service will be honoured. Shepherd out." With increased urgency, they finished the loading process and the doors at the back of the base opened. Soap ejected the flash drive and stuffed it in his pocket, clipping it shut. They rushed outside and behind them, the base exploded. Soap was knocked flat on his stomach, covering his ears as the explosion roared around them.

He forced himself to his feet and saw a weapons depot in front of them. At the end of the depot were several soldiers. In the middle of their group was General Shepherd.

"Dagger 1, bring in danger close air support on the weapons depot, over!" Shepherd ordered.

"That's within one hundred meters of you, sir!" The pilot protested.

"ON THE DOUBLE, PILOT!" Shepherd snarled. He complied and a Little Bird entered the area. "Take care of them while we get to the Zodiacs!" Quinn forced herself to her feet and grabbed Soap by his arm, yelling at him to move.

They ran back to the destroyed base as the Little Bird fired missiles at them. The depot exploded in a massive ball of flame and killed the soldiers inside of it. The Little Bird flew off and General Shepherd and his men ran off deeper into the caves.

"Shepherd said something about Zodiacs," Soap said. "There must be water access nearby. Come on, we can't let him get away now!" Quinn nodded and followed Soap as they sprinted through the burning depot, cutting down the few soldiers that remained of the Shadow Company opposition. They ran forward to catch Shepherd, but realized he ran into a dark cave.

"Let's finish this," Quinn growled. Soap nodded and together, they sprinted into the cave and to their fate.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

___/Begin Transmission/_

___/Broadcast Radius-World Wide/_

___/Subject Confirmed: Sergeant Lucy 'Quinn' Fabray/Captain John 'Soap' MacTavish/_

___/Decrypting/_

___/This is for the record./_

___/History is written by the victor./_

___/History is also filled with liars. If he lives and we die, his truth becomes written, and ours is lost./_

___/Shepherd will be a hero because all you need to change the world is one good lie and a river of blood./_

___/He's about to complete the biggest trick a liar ever pulled in human history. That is, only if he lives, and we die./_

___/End Transmission/_

"Come on, Quinn, get on the boat!" Soap screamed. Quinn complied and they ran onto the dock just as the first Zodiac shot off down the river as it flowed down the cave. Quinn leaped into the Zodiac, drawing a G18 that was lying on the bottom of the boat. Starting its engines, Soap sat in the front with his ACR-now unsuppressed-and they shot down the river.

Water sprayed on the sides of their small, rocket-fast Zodiac. Shadow Company was entrenched in the rocks of the caves, firing down on them as they made their harried pursuit to catch Shepherd before he escaped their grasp. RPGs fired from above impacted on the river and forced their Zodiac to fly into the air and smash into the river, water flying everywhere, drenching them as the droplets fell around them like a maelstrom. It reminded Soap of the Estonian freighter they sank five years ago. The soldiers continued to pour into the area, firing at them every step of the way.

For Soap, it was difficult to fire at the troops accurately as the Zodiac jolted upward and to the sides as they sped through the waves of the river. Quinn did her best to assist Soap when she could, but it was more vital that he stay focused on driving the boat to catch Shepherd. They entered a small cave covered with pipes and valves along the walls and roof of the cave. Getting an idea, Quinn raised the G18 and fired the full-automatic pistol at the pipes. As she expected, they were pressured and filled with gasoline. Pipes exploded and the cave cracked. Spider web crevices and cracks appeared in the cave, the ceiling collapsing on top of the men inside. The screams of pain and terror enveloped it as men began to jump into the water, but their salvation was in vain-the mountain itself collapsed on top of them, crushing even those in the water.

Cars and armoured vehicles sped into the area and fired heavy machine guns and M4A1 and SCAR-H gunfire into the area. They managed to dodge the vast majority of the gunfire, but they came into many close calls where they nearly died from the gunfire. Shepherd's men fired at them from the boat as well, but Shepherd was also directing them where to go. Whatever he was doing, it was crazy and extremely cunning and downright insane. Their Zodiac flew inside of a narrow, darkened cave.

Quinn manoeuvred the Zodiac to follow them through the cave. At the far end, there was a bright white speck that showed them that it opened up into a new area. They fired at Shepherd's Zodiac, Soap felling two of the soldiers on it. Unfortunately, Shepherd was still very much alive. Soap continued firing until he was forced to reload his ACR. As they shot out of the opening, the bright yellow sunlight was temporarily blinding Quinn as they flew out of the tunnel.

Suddenly, a Little Bird flew over the mountain behind them and flew ahead of them, twisting backward to aim its machine guns at them. Quinn jerked the wheel around and the Zodiac flew to the left, flying through columns, pillars, and random rocks lying in the large river. The Little Bird fired its machine guns at them, but the bullets only smashed into the rocks, firing rubble and dust in all directions. Some bullets flew into the water around them as well, but they dodged it narrowly.

Soldiers on the bridges ahead fired RPGs at them and, causing the ones that impacted on the water shot them high into the air. One of them forced their Zodiac to fly over the bridge, the propeller on the bottom, clipping one of the soldiers and killing him.

"Dodge that Little Bird before his guns spin up!" Soap shouted. Quinn nodded and swerved the boat as it fired at them. Then, Shepherd decided to take a truly daring move: rather than take one of the adjacent rivers, he continued down into the rapids. "Hold on, this is going to be rough!" Quinn tightened her grip on the wheel and dropped the G18, clutching the Zodiac. They flew over the rocks and smashed into the rapids.

Water sprayed around them, droplets falling into Quinn's eyes as she tried to remain focused on Shepherd's Zodiac ahead of them. It was hard enough to manoeuvre the rapids as the river tossed them around viciously, but doing it blinded was even more difficult.

"Gold Eagle, this is Sierra Foxtrot!" A pilot of a Black Hawk screamed overhead. "We have you in sight and are ready to extract you!"

"Roger that, Sierra Foxtrot!" Shepherd replied. "On the double, they're almost on us!"

"Sir, yes sir!" He replied. The Black Hawk flew ahead and Quinn and Soap continued to chase Shepherd, hoping to get a lucky shot at him. They rounded a bend-and saw Shepherd's Zodiac fly into the Black Hawk's rear hatch.

"NO!" Soap screamed. Quinn shot forward further down the river and Price fired more shots at the Black Hawk. Finally, he ran out of ammunition and took out his Intervention. "Quinn, keep her steady!" Soap was frantic as Quinn began to keep it in reverse, fighting against the current. They fell down a small ledge and once again, Soap yelled to steady the Zodiac. The Black Hawk turned on them and aimed its guns and missiles at their position-then Soap fired one last bullet, impacting the tail rudder and causing a chain reaction of small explosions, causing the Black Hawk to fall down to the surface far below.

"Back up, back up!" Soap yelled. Quinn did as she was told, but the current was too strong and their Zodiac wasn't built for rapids. They edged closer to waterfall's edge, watching as the Black Hawk spiralled down below. Then, the Zodiac fell down into a large pool of water below, and everything went black for Quinn.

******Five Minutes Later**

Soap opened his eyes and found himself lying flat on his back on the shoreline of the pool. He coughed up water and turned himself over, throwing up more below him. He stared around but his vision was blurry, so he could not see his weapons. His knife was still in its sheathe, though, so he drew it and continued forward. Quinn was nowhere to be seen.

___No_, Soap thought. ___Not again. Don't let her be dead!_ No matter how much he searched, even in the water, he could not find Quinn. He came to the horrifying and sickening conclusion that Quinn didn't survive the fall. He fell to the ground, clutching at his heart as he wept. Then, his eyes clouded with anger and he picked up the knife. If Shepherd was still alive, he was going to make him pay for what he'd done. He stumbled as he walked stalked forward, keen on finding and killing General Shepherd.

He saw a shimmering light in the distance and he realized that it was the Black Hawk's wreckage. A man was crawling away, blood pouring from his wounds. Soap stabbed him and continued on. Another soldier lied on the ground near the cockpit, aiming a pistol at him. He pulled the trigger, but it was out of ammunition. With a malicious, devious smile, he stabbed the man in the chest, killing him.

Then, a man climbed out of the wreckage and looked at Soap. It was Shepherd. With all of his strength, Soap ran up to him, but he stumbled, dizzy. He threw up again, but forced himself to his feet as he followed Shepherd. There was a large, rusted structure in the distance. An old car sat outside of the building, where Shepherd slumped over, exhausted.

___Now_, Soap thought. ___KILL HIM NOW!_ He drew the knife and made a lunge. Then, a light appeared in Shepherd's eyes and he caught Soap's arm in mid-swing. With his other hand, he punched him in the face and slammed his head into the roof of the car, kicking him to the ground. The knife flew away, out of Soap's reach. Shepherd pulled out a dagger and stared down at him with cold eyes.

"You know what they say about revenge, don't you?" Shepherd asked. When Soap didn't respond, he plunged the knife into his chest. Soap screamed in agony, as he bent over towards his face. "You don't, do you? The saying goes, 'You'd better dig two graves.'" He pulled out his .44 Magnum Revolver, loading it with new bullets.

"Five years ago, I lost thirty thousand men in the blink of an eye," Shepherd said. "And you know what the world did? It just fuckin' watched."

"You're lying," Soap groaned. "We know what you did."

"Oh, do you now?" Shepherd asked, an evil grin forming on his lips. "Well, then, I guess I no longer have to pull this ruse. The world is an ignorant place, you know. People will believe anything nowadays, and this was finally my chance to show the world what we're capable of. World War Three will be the greatest conflict in the history of man. Of course, America will become victorious over all countries. I admit, the alliance with China, Japan, and England was extremely surprising, though it helped in every way possible.

"And that old fool of a Commander who couldn't get into the base in Cheyenne Mountain? He was not easy enough to manipulate, which is why I hired my men to finish him off while I locked down the base. The new one is younger and more susceptible to my command and clings to my every word. Changes are difficult, but when I unite the nations of the world-that is, if they survive the war-I will be a most humbling ruler of the new world Empire. This will be a new world, and it will all be shaped in my mind."

Soap glared at him. "You're insane," he growled. He only smiled and continued.

"Am I, MacTavish? This would mean an end to all wars, a time of endless peace and prosperity under my rule as supreme Emperor of the united people of Earth. Tomorrow, there will be no shortage of patriots, no shortage of volunteers," he aimed the pistol at Soap's face. "I know you understand." Then, a figure crashed into Shepherd, the bullet firing into the air. The gun skidded across the hard surface and Soap saw Quinn attack Shepherd in a vicious assault. Soap crawled over to the gun and managed to get his hand around the barrel, but then Quinn fell to the ground in front of him. Shepherd kicked the gun away, and then smashed the heel of his boot into Soap's face.

Soap drifted in and out of consciousness, watching Shepherd and Quinn battle in the dusty arena as the sandstorm increased in strength.

In, and out.

Quinn was winning, dealing a severe blow to Shepherd's jaw. He heard and audible crack and Shepherd lunged for Price.

In, and out.

Shepherd smashed his shin into Quinn's groin. Quinn groaned in pain and Shepherd attacked her once more.

In, and out.

Shepherd continued to punch Quinn as she laid bleeding on the ground. Soap looked at the dagger embedded in his chest. With an effort of will and strength, he grasped the handle. It was the most difficult, painful thing Soap had ever been through. His vision turned red and he tasted blood. He put another hand on the hilt and began to draw it from his chest, growling with pain. His vision was blotted with blood and his mind began to ebb into darkness.

The dagger flew out, causing Soap to cry out in pain. Shepherd did not notice it, and Soap twirled the dagger in his fingers. He saw Shepherd on top of Quinn, continuing to punch his already unconscious friend. Boiling with anger, Soap aimed the knife at just the right angle so that there was no possible way that Quinn would be hit or Shepherd escaping.

"SHEPHERD!" Soap screamed. He looked up for a moment and saw Soap. At first, a look of confusion passed across his face. Then, Soap threw the dagger-and the blade sank into his face. Blood flew in the air and his body jerked backward. He fell back as blood spewed from the wound. Soap fell back. He had killed Shepherd. Their truth was written, and his was lost. He couldn't explain why he still felt like he failed, though. He faded into darkness once more, this time, however, he did not wake up.

******Several Hours Later**

Soap pried open his eyes and saw Quinn crouched over him, wrapping gauze and bandages around Soap's wound. Soap looked up at her and tried to say something but no words came out of his mouth. Quinn glanced at him in worry and asked him something, but Soap could hardly hear her.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asked repeatedly. Soap began to hear her correctly and tried to nod, but his chest hurt so much that he could hardly move his body at all.

"Y-yes," he breathed weakly. Quinn nodded and continued bandaging his wounds. Soap could hear the sound of propellers and could see the dust of the sandstorm shifting. Quinn noticed the change as well and looked behind him to see a Little Bird landing behind them.

"Come on, it'll hold for now," Quinn said, helping Soap to his feet. Soap slumped down and Price had to catch him while they walked forward towards the Little Bird. "I thought we told you this was a one-way trip!" Quinn called.

"I couldn't leave you," Nikolai replied. "Did you get the evidence against Shepard." Soap stumbled again and Nikolai ran to his other side, helping Quinn carry him to the Little Bird.

"We did," Quinn replied, "What happened with the others?"

"Good," Nikolai replied, in reference to the information, "Your friends, when you left..."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

"Are you sure these suits will protect us?" Nick questioned nervously. The lumbering behemoths residing inside of the truck loaded their weapons, securing armour to themselves, extra ammunition underneath it. The movement was slow and sluggish and the suits were incredibly uncomfortable, but it was strong enough to take on the small army of Ultranationalist soldiers inside of the luxury hotel.

Price had seen the schematics of the place; it was an undercover building Makarov had been using for years. To know that the evil man had lived there for so long, even since Zakhaev was in power, angered Price beyond belief. He'd seen the pictures; the man had lived a life not dissimilar to Adolf Hitler. He lived like a king, armed soldiers constantly protecting the hotel, their staff uniforms disguising their true intent.

On occasion, Makarov would take women with him and take advantage of them, turning them into whores until he grew tired of them and killed them for his own fun and entertainment. It disgusted Price to hear that, but he knew that evil men would commit evil acts. Charles and Edward warned them that it would take time to accurately track Makarov; as they said, their Arabic was 'a bit rusty.' Price looked at Nick as bullets began to impact against the metallic rear door of the car.

"Looks like they know we're here," Price observed. "This armour will buy us some time, but one way or another, this all ends here." They donned their protective helmets, now covering every inch of their bodies. Yuri tapped his helmet and grabbed his M249 Light Machinegun. Price was well accustomed to the weapon as well, grabbing his after slinging and M4A1 Carbine to his back. They leaned next to the door and Price looked at Yuri one last time. "This is for Soap."

And with a thought to how Soap and Quinn were getting on, they burst through the door, guns blazing as the startled mercenaries leaped for cover. Their unarmoured bodies were torn apart by the vicious force of the M249's armour piercing rounds. The spinning projectiles tore through sinew and bone, limbs being shredded and destroyed by the mere force of the rounds. The intense recoil of the guns was difficult for the two to manage with the cumbersome Juggernaut suits, but when firing in bursts, they were able to both manage ammunition and destroy their enemies.

Cars sped forward full of troops, but Makarov's army would not help him. The cars weren't outfitted for bullet protection, and when the rounds penetrated the engines and fuselage, they burst into shock waves of flame and metal, those riding inside obliterated by the blast.

They continued their steady march on the hotel, taking out every one of the soldiers as they hunted for Makarov. Civilians rushed out of the hotel in a frenzied panic, RPG wielding soldiers firing at the two of them. Juggernaut armour was not meant for such weapons, forcing the two to hit the ground and take cover from the grenades. Nick suppressed the RPG wielders while Price took them out with precision and prejudice.

They lumbered into the hotel, its luxury and beauty quickly turning into chaos and destruction. Artwork and intricate designs of furniture and other objects inside the hotel were destroyed in the fire fights, the blood staining the floors and walls, the stench of death lingering in the air. Price reloaded his M249 as Nick gave cover fire. With that, the two continued, both on a quest for vengeance.

"Makarov has hailed a chopper from the city," Charles reported. "I can't take it out from here, so you'll have hurry it up! The pilots will reach the roof in less than fifteen minutes!"

"Roger that, Charles!" Price complied. "We're at the elevators now; we'll be at the top soon!" More civilians rushed past them, some trampling each other in their harried escape. They climbed into the elevator nearby, causing it to lean slightly from the weight of their armour. They started the elevator, steadily climbing to the top of the tower.

Two flying objects appeared over the massive expanse of water; the helicopters Makarov requested for had arrived. Price and Nick instinctively opened fire on the little bird, their bullets flying through the elevator lift before the pilots could open fire on them. They killed the pilots, but the spiralling helicopter smashed into their lift and exploded. The blast sent Price into the wall, fire coating their armour.

Nick tore his off and threw it out of the lift, assisting Price's in return. Now, they were down to light armour underneath their Task Force 141 uniforms. Price unruffled his hat and donned it, amusing Nick; he seemed to be nothing without that old, tethered hat. Nick directed his attention to the badly damaged lift and radioed Charles and Edward.

"Boy's, our armour's shredded and we need another lift!"

"What the hell happened?" Edward asked incredulously. "Juggernaut armour is supposed to be reliable!"

"Not against a crashing helicopter!" Nick snarled. "Now get us another lift or this mission is done before we get a chance to really start it!"

"Copy, sending you another lift now!" Charles said.

Price tossed his M249, no longer needing it without its ammunition. He picked up his M4A1 and loaded a magazine into the cartridge, watching Nick pace about the burning lift. He scowled and called the boys again, but a lift finally arrived next to them. Their lift creaked and moaned, so Nick fired several rounds into the glass walls of the other lift, and the two leaped.

Their former lift could no longer take it, crashing below just as they clambered on their new lift. The Boys continued to send the lift to the top floor, Nick and Price anticipating the new set of gunfights they would have to go through. Thought as they did, they were met with several emplacements of Ultranationalists. They ran forward, doing everything they could to catch Makarov before he escaped.

Bullets flew around the massive room, fires igniting and explosions annihilating the architecture of the elaborate building. Nick and Price were in a sort of daze as they fought, the gunfights becoming nothing more to them than obstacles between them and Makarov. Price, for the first time in his life, wondered what went through the minds of these men as they died for Makarov. Did they have families that would miss them when they were gone? What was the full cost of these small, insignificant battles when they should all be working to fight the same war.

Makarov was the one they wanted, not these people that could have been forced to do what they do now. They rushed forward nevertheless, entering a large bar. At the other end, Price's eyes met the cold, dark voids that were Makarov's. Price roared and opened fire, Nick doing the same. They sprinted forward, but not before rockets from Makarov's helicopter smashed into the bar, cutting them off from their target.

The support struts failed and crumbled from beneath them, sending them tumbling towards the ocean below. Price dug his knife into the wooden floor, halting his descent, and then began to climb towards a level surface. He reached the top, searching for his weapon. What he found, however, was Nick; a metal beam had impaled him, sticking halfway through his abdomen. He coughed up blood as he looked at his wound in disbelief.

"Nick…" Price breathed in shock. Nick turned his gaze to Price.

"Leave me!" He snarled. "Do not let him get away!" Price was, for a moment, at a loss for what to do. He hesitated, wanting to help Nick in any way that he could. Yet he knew that Nick was right; they couldn't let him get away. Not again. This was their last chance to end the war. Price nodded to Nick and sprinted ahead through the doorway that Makarov had exited from.

Charles shouted to Price in the com link, notifying him that Makarov was in his chopper and leaving. Price quickened his pace, arriving on the landing platform. The door of the Little Bird slammed shut at it began to ascend. Price ran forward and jumped, catching the bottom of the helicopter and pulling himself up. He yanked open the door to the cockpit, knocking away a swift kick from the pilot. He grabbed the man's foot and pulled him out and over the helicopter, sending the screaming man hundreds of meters to the ground below.

Price clambered inside the Little Bird and knocked away several shots from the co-pilot's gun, stabbing the man in the throat and kicking him out of the helicopter. Makarov lunged from the back, fighting to push Price out and take control of the helicopter. Price fought back, driving the helicopter towards the building. If he could crash it and kill them both, at least Makarov's reign would finally be over.

The smashed into the roof, sending the two of them flailing outside onto the rapidly cracking glass pane above the bar that led to the veranda. Price coughed and spat out blood, then looked back to the burning wreckage of the Little Bird to see the dark figure emerge from the flames. He clutched at his bleeding side, stumbling towards an object in the middle of the glass pane: a Desert Eagle class pistol.

Price quickly crawled towards it, noticing something wrong with his leg that prevented him from standing upright. He looked briefly and realized that from the middle of his femur down, his leg was torn off. Bone and tissue protruded from the ungraceful stump where his right leg used to be. Blood began to drip off of it, painting the glass a crimson hue. Despite this, he continued forward. He grabbed the barrel of the gun, but Makarov slammed his heel into his fingers. Price growled in pain as Makarov tore the gun from his grip.

Price looked up at Makarov, the dark barrel pointed to his head. The fire gleamed in Makarov's eyes. The irises turned a sickly amber, blood falling from a large gash on his forehead. His hair was matted with blood and his clothing was torn and scorched. He was in worse shape than Price could have imagined, yet he still lived. Makarov was the living embodiment of evil, a true modern demon of the world. And now…now he was going to end the war and kill Price. They had failed. Makarov sneered, his torn lip revealing gums that had been badly burned and ripped in the blast, the roots of his teeth protruding from the roof of his mouth.

"This is how the war ends," Makarov mused. "With a final fight. You have fought valiantly, my friend, but in the end, you cannot win. Goodbye, Captain Price." A bullet flew through Makarov's shoulder, blood flying outward. He cried in pain and stumbled. Price looked to see Nick stumbling towards him, the bloody beam held in the grip of his left hand, a pistol held in his right. Makarov lost his grip on the Desert Eagle, sending it sprawling on the other end of the glass pane.

Nick's eyes were glazed and blood poured from his wounds, yet he still lumbered on. Makarov met him and punched him in the face, yanking the pistol from him and bringing it up under his chin. He fired a single round through his skull, brain matter flying from the top. Nick's eyes turned and his corpse collapsed in a bloody heap on the ground.

Price snarled and leaped at Makarov, slamming him to the ground. He knocked the pistol away and began to ruthlessly punch Makarov in the face. He chocked him, slammed his head on the glass, and repeated the process. He saw a rope nearby from a toolbox that had been thrown free from the little bird. Its end was snared inside of the Little Bird, but the end was free. Price quickly grabbed it and wrapped it tightly around Makarov's neck. Price slammed Makarov on the glass pane, each slam cracking the glass more and more.

"This is for the marines that you murdered five years ago!" Price screamed. His voice was filled with passion and fury, wanting to let this evil man know exactly what he had done to affect Price and others around him. "This is for Kasovach, who never did anything to wrong you! For Gaz and Griggs, who died in service for what they believed! For the Task Force 141 that were killed and died as outcasts and traitors! And this…___THIS IS FOR ME!_"

Price slammed him forcefully into the glass pane, smashing through. Makarov screamed in horror and fury the entire way down, reaching for Price as they fell. Suddenly, they jerked and send Price flying onto table nearby. He looked to see Makarov swing towards him, reaching out to grab him. Hate filled his eyes, his fingers reaching out like demonic claws. He gurgled and squeaked, trying to say something, but the noose had tightened around Makarov's neck tightly and efficiently. He swung around before finally coming to a steady drift. His eyes glared forward, blood trickling from his lips.

Price gasped, breathing heavily. His leg was numb, but luckily it wasn't bleeding too much. He tore off strips of his uniform and made a makeshift cast around the wound, halting the blood flow that was sure to ensue and blocking the blood from coming out. He took a look at Makarov, expecting him to come back and try to kill him again. But the corpse hung, the deathly stare no longer focused on him. Price breathed a sigh of relief. Then his radio beeped.

"Price, come in, it's Quinn." Quinn's voice came through the radio. Price sighed again, Quinn was alright.

"Quinn, status report?" Price demanded, struggling to his feet.

"Shepard's dead, but Soap's in a bad way. I'm doing all I can, but we need to get him to a hospital ASAP! I have connections in an American City. Their hospital is preparing to receive us."

"Send me the coordinates, we'll meet you there."

"Sir, yes, sir." Quinn responded.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

The Little Bird was struggling. They had been caught in a storm while crossing the ocean and the tail rotor had been damaged. Nikolai had managed to hold the little bird together up until this point, but now, as they approached Lima general hospital, he was having some problems.

"Sergeant Fabray, I do not know if we will make it!" Nikolai shouted, as both he and Quinn fought separate battles. Nikolai's to keep the bird in the air and Quinn's to keep Soap alive. She wasn't the best medic, but like every member of the 141, she had received some very basic medical training, and right now, as he was, Soap wouldn't make it.

"We have to make it Nikolai!" Quinn snapped, she was at her wits end. In the past few weeks, she had seen more of her friends die then anyone should ever have to see. Some of the things she had done, would scar her for the rest of her life. Right now, her mind was not on the task at hand, which was strange for her, she was normally able to concentrate very easily on the task at hand, but currently, her mind was on where she was, not what she was doing. She was home, after seven long years, she was finally home. Her sister was here. Hell, her daughter was here, and finally, Quinn would see them again. That is, if Nikolai could get them safely to Lima General Hospital. Quinn could see the landing Pad, she could also see a number of paramedics, an Ambulance and what looked like a couple of Army personnel.

As the Little Bird neared the landing pad, there was a dull thump from the tail rotor. There was a rapid beeping from the cockpit, followed by Nikolai swearing quickly and passionately in Russian.

"I need to put her down, Quinn! NOW!" Nikolai shouted at her.

"Then put her the fuck down!" Quinn screamed back, and that's exactly what he did, with much smoke and protest from the Little Bird, Nikolai managed to put down the Helicopter.

Instantly, the medics rushed towards the helicopter as Quinn jumped out, through pure habit, taking her ACR with her. As she listed off what medicines she had given Soap, one of the Army troopers approached her.

"Colonel Sylvester, Ma'am!" Quinn snapped and let off a salute when she recognised the officer.

"At ease Sergeant Fabray. My superiors told me that you had something for me."

Quinn nodded and reached into one of the pockets on her combat trousers, pulled out the flash drive and offered it to Sue.

As Sue took it, she gave Quinn a look of curiosity, "Care to explain what's on here, Sergeant." Sue said as the medics loaded Soap into the ambulance, Nikolai climbing in behind them.

"If we can go with them, then I will explain." Quinn told Sue. Sue nodded and motion to a Humvee next to the ambulance. Jogging over, Sue climbed behind the wheel and Quinn climbed in the passenger seat. As the Ambulance accelerated and Sue did the same and began to follow it, Quinn started to speak.

"On the flash drive, is concrete evidence that General Hershel Shepherd, was the man behind not only the recent World War Three, but the Second Russian Civil War. He supplied weapons to Imran Zakhaev, as well as Khaled Al-Asad and, after their deaths, Vladimir Makarov.."  
"Where is General Shepherd now?" Sue interrupted Quinn, "He must be brought to justice for his crimes against humanity."

"He's dead." Quinn stated, bluntly, "Rotting in Afghanistan. Captain John 'Soap' MacTavish killed him. General Shepherd betrayed those he had earned the trust of. As far as I know, there are only five members of the Task Force 141 left. The majority of the Task Force lies dead in an airplane bone yard in Northern Afghanistan or at Makarov's estate near the Georgian-Russian border." By now they had pulled up outside accident and emergency, and had jumped out of the Humvee and were following the medics inside.

"And Makarov is dead as well?"

Quinn just nodded as they burst into the accident and emergency waiting room. It was packed, and the citizens looked incredibly shocked to see the medical team rush in followed by two soldiers, one with a smart dress uniform, the other, beaten and bruised, in lightweight battle gear, carrying an ACR.

"We'll have to stay here, they won't let us into the operating theatre." Sue informed Quinn.

Quinn nodded and grabbed her a Sue two seats next to a young woman. The Woman had been staring at Quinn since she had walked in, and as she took a seat, the woman spoke.

"Excuse me?" She asked Quinn quietly. Quinn turned to the slightly familiar young woman. Quinn nodded her head to show she was listening, in fact all she wanted to do was get some sleep, she had been on her feet for nearly twenty four hours, "Are you Quinn Fabray?"

This peaked Quinn's interest. What were the odds of running into someone she knew? Sure, she was very popular during her high school days, but it had been seven years since she had last seen any of them.

"Yes?" Quinn asked amazed that someone could have recognised her in her current state. She had to say, she didn't recognise the thin, black girl sitting next to her, "And you are?"

"You don't recognise me?" The girl mocked fake surprise, "Mercedes? Mercedes Jones?" It clicked in Quinn's mind instantly. She hadn't seen Mercedes since the day she left. She looked...amazing.

"Wow. Mercedes? You look amazing!"

Mercedes nodded, "And Quinn, you look..." Mercedes paused for a moment while she searched for the right word. Shit was a bit strong and bad wasn't strong enough, "...Terrible."

Quinn let out a light chuckle, "I do, don't I?" Then Quinn asked the question she really wanted to know the answer to, "Have you seen Beth?"

Mercedes smiled, her trademark, knowing smile, "Yes, I saw her a few days ago. She's doing great," Mercedes responded, before Quinn could ask how Beth was doing.

"Are they still..."

"Living at Fabray Manor?" Mercedes finished Quinn's question for her, "Yes, they are. Beth, Jemma and Rachel. Nearly a happy family."

"Who's running Wayne Enterprises?" Quinn asked instantly, without even thinking of the question.

"Wayne Enterprises hasn't existed for nearly four years, it's Fabray Industries now. Bruce Wayne left the company to you, but because you were nowhere to be found, the company was given to the government and after quite a few years, they decided control of the company should go to one of you're relatives. So, Jemma inherited the company."

"Why are you here?" Quinn asked, curious, because Mercedes didn't look injured, which pointed towards the fact, that, like Quinn, she was here with someone else.

"My husband got back from active duty last month, injured, he's been in the hospital for three weeks. I just like the activity down here, so the hospital staff allow me to sit and observe. Who was that man you and Miss Sylvester," Mercedes smiled at Sue, who nodded back, "Came in with?"

"An old friend, who's in trouble. He got me out of a number of tough spots."

"Is he a soldier as well?"

"The best of the best." Quinn said quietly, as a doctor exited the operating theatre and headed straight towards them, "How is he?" Quinn asked, jumping to her feet.

"He's stable, but he's lost a lot of blood. We'll need to keep him here overnight. Do you have a place to go...Sergeant?" The doctor asked, noticing the stripes on Quinn's arm.

Quinn nodded slowly. It was finally time to go home, home to Beth, home to Jemma and home to her life, but could she do it? Revert to civilian life? Or would the nightmares of the men and women she had killed prove to much for her? She had to find out. She had to see Beth again.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Sue asked Quinn. Quinn just nodded before turning to Mercedes.

"When your husband gets out of here, make sure to come visit." Mercedes smiled and hugged Quinn. Before the blonde turned and walked out, closely followed by Sue.


	13. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Quinn waved goodbye as Sue turned the Humvee at the top of the Fabray Mansion driveway and sped back down the hill.

Turning towards the main entrance, Quinn flipped the safety on on her ACR, and cursed herself under her breath at not having done it sooner. Slowly crossing the gravel driveway towards the door, Quinn checked her watch. _6am. _Jemma and Beth would probably still be sleeping. Quinn silently hoped that they would be asleep, she wasn't in any kind of physical condition to receive a welcome from the two of them.

When she reached the door, Quinn immediately crouched and lifted the plant pot at the door. Hoping that Jemma still kept the key where Quinn had when she had stayed there. To her luck, the key was under the plant. Quinn let out a small sigh, grabbed the key and eased herself back into a standing position, before sliding the key into the lock and opening it with a click.

Slowly pushing the door open, Quinn tried not to make a sound. She entered the main hall and was greeted with the same smell she had received when she had first set foot inside the hall. She gently placed her duffel bag down by the door, through force of habit, she kept her ACR with her. She slowly walked through into the living room, if she was lucky, she'd get a few hours sleep before Beth or Jemma woke.

Quinn collapsed on the couch, still fully clothed and cradling her ACR. Quinn took one last look around the room. The deep, dark wood, the old fashioned style seats, and the potted plants. Quinn sighed. It felt great to be home, and closing her eyes, Quinn fell into a deep sleep.

A scream. A scream was what awoke Quinn, and instantly, her combat instincts kicked in. She sat up instantly and lifted her ACR towards the scream. The barrel ended up inches from the screamers face. Quinn lowered the ACR as soon as she realised who the scream had issued from. The little girl before Quinn was frozen stiff out of fear, her eyes locked with Quinn's.

"Beth..." Quinn managed to get out, before Beth screamed again and ran out of the room.

Throwing off the ACR, Quinn struggled to her feet, the old wound in her back burning along with a few new ones and began to make her way after Beth. Her head was in agony as she stumbled out of the room and looked around, she had no idea where Beth had gone. She saw a shape at the top of the stairs, a tall shape.

"Jemma!" Quinn managed to shout out, as her left leg gave way beneath her. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

She saw the shape running down the stairs towards her and grab her, supporting her weight. Together, as one, they moved back through towards the room from which Quinn had emerged. Jemma gently put Quinn back down on the couch.

"Lucy Q?" Jemma asked, shocked at how her sister looked before her.

"JamJar." Quinn managed to get out.

Jemma squealed with happiness and grabbed Quinn in a bear hug, nearly crushing her, "Thank god you're back!"

Quinn's battlefield senses instantly kicked in. Something was wrong; "What's going on Jemma?"

"The cities in trouble Quinn."

"What? Why?"

"The city is in turmoil. A man called Bane has been terrorising the city with a series of robberies and murders and the Secret Society of Superheroes can do nothing to stop him."

"The what?"

"When you stopped being Huntress a new force of heroes rose to defend Lima. Rachel is working with them. She can organise a meeting between you and their leader if you want."

Quinn thought about this for a minute. She had only just returned from active duty and had been looking forward to time off, but something Bruce had told her years ago came back to her; _' We wear the mask to protect those we love, from those who would seek to destroy us.' _

"The Huntress must rise." Quinn whispered, she knew what she said was completely true. Lima needed it's hero, it's dark warrior.

"I need to tell you something Quinn." Jemma whispered, Quinn turned to her and nodded, "When you left, I became a hero of my own right. I became the Raven. I've been operating out of the cave beneath this house."

Quinn nodded, processing the information, "Then we rise together and fight together, the new dynamic duo."

Jemma smiled and hugged her sister again. She had missed her, but Quinn was back and the Huntress was rising.


End file.
